


i'll tell you aloud for the first time

by josten10



Series: listen to me [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: M/M, fuck it magic systems exposition, gee frederick how come josten10 lets you have 3 mums, i kinda forgot what happens in awakening for realsies sorry, we return to political drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:48:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28658997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josten10/pseuds/josten10
Summary: Robin returns to Plegia to tie up lost ends between the land and his memories. Frederick learns a new kind of loyalty, but is it strong enough to hold up Robin's wavering faith?Love is not a surprise, but a choice made over and over. Let it conquer seas, moors, deserts and the wars that reside in them. Let it feast on the knowledge of its forefathers' shortcomings, and grow from it.part 3 of my fredrobin series. please read remind me why i listen to you & i should never have listened to you first.
Relationships: Frederick/My Unit | Reflet | Robin
Series: listen to me [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1538284
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	1. losses

losses p.2

_??? _

_ Robin _

_ The town was strangely decorated. Unlike Robin had ever seen - quaint and modest, houses were uniform in shades of brown and gold, blending with snow that caked roads and froze windows.  
_ _ Everything here, both man-made and natural, looked like it had existed in this state since the dawn of time. From the light of the first day, brick coiled like beanstalks and became tall, forming houses with snow already stuck to sloping rooves.  
_ _ The main street was absent of footprints; not due to the lack of people travelling, but because of how quickly the snow fought to keep this little world in its picture-perfect state. Every sullied mark was coloured bright white by snowfall or dark brown by the overcast sky. _

_ It just seemed to make the weather seem colder. Robin's body wracked with a shiver. _

_ Despite the temperature, he and his mother were outside; mesmerised by the flurry of white that just kept falling. They sat under a bare tree and watched the frozen lake beside them; letting their backsides go numb as snowflakes fell through their fingertips. _

_ "Are you ready to go?" _

_ Robin shook his head.  
_ _ He hadn't spent much time outside before. Freedom was a concept he had only understood in its inverse - lack of freedom; to be caged - and the icy air that entered his lungs made his insides feel infinite as the new feeling consumed him. _

_ "Come on," his mother stood, dusted herself off, holding her open palm outstretched. "We need to get to the port by Sunday; or they'll leave without us." _

_ "Do we have to go?" _

_ "Hm?" _

_ "Leave Ferox. Do we really have to - can't we just stay here, Mama?" _

_ Sighing, she shook her head. "You are still young. There are many things you're yet to understand." _

_ "We're still in danger, aren't we?" _

_ "You're not going to deduce your way into my explanation. Not yet, at least." _

_ Robin braced himself on his hands and stood. "You can't tell me because it's not safe?" _

_ His mother put her arm around his shoulder and led him towards the street. "Still not telling you." _

_ "I'll find out eventually; you know." _

_ "I know." _

_ - _

JULY 14TH

ROBIN

The walk seemed to take an age - it was only once Grima stepped out of sight, disappearing impossibly fast into the golden sky, that anticipation began to creep up on Robin.  
The feeling of it was all-consuming.  
From his gut, it clawed all the way up his spine until it was scratching at his neck; begging him to turn back. His legs moved in a steady rhythm as if they weren't aware.

Aversa did not once turn her head to stare at Robin. She was focused, almost entranced, at the sight of a castle in which, prior, she had spent most of her time. Robin wondered if she was afraid, too.

The castle was farther away than it had looked when it first came into view; its far-reaching walls squashing into a far more reasonable round exterior. It was a lot smaller than Ylisstol Castle.   
Still, Plegia Castle was a statement of wealth and power in its own way - perhaps in its grace: there was clearly a theme in the architecture, building up in the grandeur of the white houses in the richer neighbourhood and coming to a head here. 

Statues were carved into the very walls - what appeared to be winged beasts and half-men, probably taken from Plegian religious belief, Robin had guessed by the iconic symbols they shared (flaming swords and piercing eyes were a running theme in the art.)

It would have been something to admire had Robin not so consumed by his own fear. It was beginning to set in that he had abandoned the only family he'd ever known back in Ylisse, and that they probably weren't even aware that he'd left yet.

Robin took comfort in the knowledge that Chrom would come for him.  
Just like all of the feelings they shared, this was an inevitability - no matter how long it took, Chrom and Robin would always find each other.

One day, his presence would be impossible to ignore, anyway - it was difficult to be lost in the colourful Plegian fabric of society from within the King's own quarters.

Robin gathered his strength. He was here for a purpose. He wasn't losing anybody - just...stepping out for a bit.

-

A figure came stumbling out of the shadowy entrance of the castle before they could come close to entering; almost falling flat in the sand with the effort it took to wade through the desert in slippers.  
The billowing man stood, though, and he was all angles - his long face ended in a sharp jawline, squared shoulders and narrow legs accessorised by his cape.  
His hands, long and thin as the rest of him, went to cup Robin's cheeks. They were cold where they touched, which might have been calming in the heat if not for the fact that the man was a complete stranger.

"Is it really you?" He asked desperately; his eyes flittering over Robin's features as if he was trying to find something specific among them.

"I…" Robin was too shocked to think of a coherent response.

The man nodded as if that answer had sufficed. "I can't believe it. My son has returned to me." 

"King Validar?"

The man gave a small, reserved smile. "Please, call me Papa."

"Papa," Robin tried. Hearing that word was always easy - saying it felt completely unnatural, though. "Papa, I'm home."

"We must celebrate." Validar clasped Robin's hands in his own. "Come with me; my son. I have much to discuss with you."

-

Plegia Castle was not nearly as pale on the inside as it was on the outside.

Colourful rugs and throws were scattered about to and fro; vibrant flowers and succulents sat on windowsills and hung from walls. The windows were massive and let such incredible light in that no lanterns needed to be lit until past sunset.  
Servants all wore light, breezy cotton, unlike in Ylisstol Castle, whose staff wrapped tightly in protective layers like aprons and jackets.

The most fantastical thing about Plegia Castle was its cat populace. Furry friends of all colours and sizes roamed about the grounds with purpose; some especially friendly cats tripping Robin as they walked between his ankles. Validar joked that they must have known who he was.  
One cat sat precariously on a chandelier, and Robin wondered aloud how it had gotten there. Simply, Validar shrugged, and stated, "we call him Pegasus," as if that was an answer.

Validar led Robin down a long corridor busied with servants almost bumping into each other; linens and towels piled in their arms. “Laundry day,” he explained, and smiled like it was a joke, but somehow Robin only felt irritation.

Many entrances in the palace did not have doors, but every room in this hallway did. Robin assumed that they were bedrooms.  
They were all painted in bright colours; stained orange and pink and red but still pristine in the accuracy of their brushstrokes.   
Validar stopped at a door which was painted royal blue. It had a thick, brass handle that seemed to double as a knocker, and Validar wrapped his hand around it; pushing inside.

The room was, for lack of a better term, bare.

Pale net curtains hung at the far wall of the room. A king-sized bed took up a large amount of the floor’s space, and even that was decorated in white linen. The desk at the bed’s foot was made of white marble, and had a few books spread across it as if they were for decoration instead of reading.   
There was, in fact, a bookshelf, but the few books on it looked like children’s titles. The floor was covered in a thin white rug and on the walls a couple of landscape paintings were hung.

“This is your room.”

“I...uh...really?”

Validar looked away awkwardly. “I attempted to furnish it in the same way that your room was in our previous estate, but you were rather young when...when you left.”

“I understand.” Robin could see that he’d made the atmosphere awkward. He sat backwards on the desk casually, trying to look comfortable. “You don’t mind if I redecorate a little, do you?”

“Do as you wish.” Was all Validar said, but he looked pleased. Robin counted that as a small victory. “Are you hungry?”

“Gods, yes.”   
Validar scoffed suddenly. “What is it?” Robin asked.

“Ah-my apologies. It’s just - that’s quite the Ylissean mannerism. We do not say that sort of thing  _ here _ .”

“Oh.” Robin looked to the ground, feeling the same sense of unbelonging that he had felt when he first woke up in Ylisse resurge violently in his stomach. “What...do you say then?”

“There’s not really a term for that expression. We might just say ‘absolutely!’ or ‘very much’.”

“Is it considered disrespectful to the gods?”

Validar’s mouth curved wryly. “Forgive me...I just cannot believe that you have forgotten... _ everything. _ ”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not your fault.” Validar waved his hand dismissively. “In answer to your question, it is considered disrespectful, yes, but we also only worship  _ one _ god.”

“Wow, really? That’s so cool!”

"I am glad you think so. We will have more time for that kind of talk later. Let’s go and get something to eat.”

-

JULY 14TH 

CHROM

The Shepherds, gathered in total for the first time in months, sat tensely in the boardroom.   
Maribelle had her head in her hands. Ricken was drumming on the table, and Miriel, who was sitting next to him, caught his wrist tensely, irritated by the sound.

"So you want us to risk the possibility of an alliance with Plegia because you have a  _ feeling  _ that Robin is there?" Miriel didn't even sound incredulous at the notion - just indignant.

Chrom crossed his arms. His chest was weighted with impatience, and he hadn’t the vocabulary to explain his reasoning on a good day.   
"Let me be clear. I  _ know _ that he's there."

"Look, I know you guys have that weird  _ 'soul bros' _ thing going on," Sully raised her fingers in inverted commas, "but this is a really big deal. If you're sure, though, I'll follow you anywhere."

Chrom steeled himself and knelt in front of where Sully was sitting. "You know me. I'm telling you I wouldn't bring us there without absolute certainty."

Sully rolled her eyes and ruffled Chrom's hair, as if he were asking something trivial. "I said I was gonna follow you; you don't have to convince me. I just want you to be sure. If we get there and he’s not around - you need to be prepared for the consequences.”

“The same will be so if we stand idle here. I’ve never been wrong about this before - I know that he’s in Plegia, and I’m certain that he’s waiting for me.”

“And who is going to take care of Ylisse in your absence? Who knows how long you will be gone? This is not a decision to be made in a day, my Lord.” Miriel interjected, her expression stiff with concern.”

“It doesn’t take a genius to work that one out,” Sully argued, “we got a perfectly good Governess who’s far too pregnant to be travelling anywhere.”

“That was the plan,” Sumia concurred, “and I will have my own team staying behind with me. There was only one person we weren’t sure about.” She turned her head to stare across the room. “Libra, will you stay or will you go?”

Libra pursed his lips and gazed out the window, considering. “Milady… If there’s any chance, I have to go after Robin.”

“I understand.”

“I will leave you in the best of care under my protégé; though.”

Chrom smiled at Libra knowingly, and returned to the front of the room. "If there are no more objections, we'll depart at dawn tomorrow. It should go without saying that I have no idea what we'll be facing, but that doesn't mean you should bring everything you own - that means  _ you _ , Stahl."

-

Chrom was expecting Miriel to stay after the meeting to voice her concerns in private, but he didn’t expect Marth to stay, too.   
He waited, eyes closed as if he was politely pretending not to listen, leant against a far wall while Miriel took her sweet time questioning Chrom’s motives.   
He had a suspicion Miriel was already resigned to their journey in the first place, and was just performing what duties she felt were expected of her. Perhaps she had stepped up just a little since her new titling as treasurer, or perhaps she was trying to fill the gaps Frederick’s absence had made. Maybe it was normal for her, and anything else was just Chrom’s wishful thinking. He answered her questions with as much patience as he could muster, regardless.

Marth showed little acknowledgement of Miriel’s departure bar cracking his eyes open a slither to peek in Chrom’s direction. His stare was glassy, though, suggesting his thoughts were miles away.

“Is there something you’d like to say?” Chrom sat up on one of the long tables; knees spread just wide enough to thread his hands together between them.

Marth didn’t move. “I’m deciding.”

“My door is always open, Marth. If you aren’t ready yet, then…”

Raising his hand in a ‘pause’ gesture, Marth began to pace. “No; it has to be now. I just don’t know  _ what  _ exactly I want to say, nor how I want to say it.”

“Well...it has to do with this journey, correct?”

Marth grimaced. “Yes and no.” Frustratedly, he made a few more circles around the room. “Did Robin tell you anything?”

“...About him leaving?”   


“No, about me.”

Chrom twiddled his thumbs. “Is there something I  _ should  _ know?”

“So he didn’t say anything.” Marth sighed. “That probably means...he’s not loyal to you. Or at least, not loyal enough to share that kind of information.”

“Marth-”   


“-I sensed it between you two on the night of the assassination attempt. He fights with his own motives. I know he’s your friend, but there’s something that bugs me.”

Chrom felt irritation pang in his chest. “I realise that the two of you do not get on. But is there really so much to be gained in antagonising each other like this?”

“Antagonising? No, Chrom; that’s not what I-”

“I’m not going to listen to you both push and pull on me like a ragdoll. Robin is my most treasured friend, and I apologise for my bluntness in saying this, but I trust him far more than you. Currently, he is in danger, and I am even less inclined to hear what personal issues you may have with him. I’d thank you to at least be civil until he gets home.”

“I know the way it sounds. I get it; okay, and this has all come out  _ so  _ wrong, but could you give me just - just five uninterrupted minutes to explain myself. And after then, if you still feel the same, I won’t push it.”

Chrom sighed. “I’ll allow that much, at least.”

“Actually; could we see Sumia? It’s best if she hears this, too.”

A part of Chrom wanted to stop the conversation where it was and get some sleep; they had a big day tomorrow, and it wouldn’t do to be dog-tired from talking. But his curiosity regarding Marth had gotten the better of him - getting answers felt like something desperate.

-

It felt odd rapping at the door to his own quarters. “Sumia? We have a guest,” Chrom called. Opening the door a crack, he peered his head in, and she was indeed there, writing out something that seemed important by the concentrated look on her face.

“Come in,” she said, not looking up from their desk. 

Marth waited anxiously at the door. “Milady, if I could have a moment of your time.”

Sumia looked up at that; her eyes following Marth’s outline with a glassy stare that Chrom knew underneath was calculating. She gestured to the chair in front of her. “Is there an issue? Are your lodgings not to your liking, or the food, or, maybe an issue with one of the Shepherds? You can tell me anything.”

It was certainly strange to see Sumia act so friendly with a stranger, even if he had saved her life. Perhaps she had decided to take her duties more seriously.

Marth’s shoulders stiffened visibly, having not moved from his spot, rigid at Chrom’s side.

Chrom patted him on the back. “It’s okay; you can sit.” He tried to be as gentle as possible, but Marth only seemed to buzz more in fear standing between the two of them.  
Sighing, Chrom slid past Marth to stand at Sumia’s side, leaving the door wide open with enough room for Marth to escape.

Instead, Marth closed them all in, and walked in purposefully all the way to the centre of the room before losing his confidence and stalling. “This is quite...difficult for me to say. I originally hadn’t planned on talking about it for a long time, but in order to trust me, I think you’re going to want to hear it.”

“It’s all right, Marth,” Chrom urged, “speak your mind.”

“I am not...from here. I mean, I’m from  _ here _ , as in Ylisse, but not  _ this  _ Ylisse.” Marth gestured vaguely as if he were referring to the mundane. “A different timeline. A future Ylisse which has been-” Marth’s voice cracked, his breath coming in heavier, “-destroyed. I was one of few survivors, and of even fewer who could fight. I had no family; no stable source of food or shelter. I lived my life in total despair.”   
Finally, Marth closed the distance, resting his hands on the back of the empty chair once offered to him. “I can tell you anything about that nightmare. Anything. Which is why you have to believe me when I say that I am your child.”

The room was silent for an age. Moonlight streamed in through the window, bright enough to overpower the candlelight and bring Marth’s face into full view. Chrom had no idea what to say - Marth didn’t seem like he was lying, but the story was larger than life and he could make no sense of it. It fell away dizzyingly, making abstract patterns in his mind.

Sumia stood confidently, and opened her arms. “Come here,” she said.

Marth opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish.

“It must have been so long since you last felt safe with somebody.” Sumia beckoned him again, and slowly, like a cat, Marth walked that final foot of space between them. Sumia closed her arms around his figure. He stood there, motionless, for a moment, before gripping her dressing gown with force and sobbing loud enough that even her clothes wouldn’t muffle the noise.

Chrom couldn’t move. He was still struck by the words - struck by Sumia’s too-calm reaction. He knew Marth had to be related to him somehow. The brand of the Exalt in his eye was an obvious, unfalsifiable clue. But his  _ child _ ?

And, more than that, his abandoned child.

In his timeline, Marth was an orphan. It was true that Chrom’s relationship with his parents wasn’t the healthiest, but he at least got the chance to know them; to feel their warmth and argue with them - be supported by the foundations they had laid in order to grow into the man he was today.

Marth had always seemed so sure of himself; so  _ adult _ , but in Sumia’s arms he looked small and terrified of the world. It was all Chrom could do to put his arms around them both, tears stinging in his eyes.  
To have them both in his embrace completed him in a way that was both supernatural and entirely familiar. It reminded him of the draw he had to Robin, and the comforting grip of the Falchion in his hands. It felt like fate turning its wheels to set him right where he was supposed to be.

“I am so proud of you,” Chrom forced the words out of stumbling lips, and Marth reached out his hand to grip the cloth at Chrom’s waist and pull him closer.

Until now, Chrom had been holding back his insecurities about becoming a father. Whether he could make up for his own parents’ deficits, fill his children’s hearts with joy where he only had caverns. And now being a parent stared him in the face. The pedestal beckoned him forth, and Marth was sitting at its base, seeking guidance in the dark.

Holding Marth close, Sumia subdued his tears with her lips to his head. Chrom took advantage of the silence to ask, "You said you had no family. If we all - if we were all gone, I mean, was there anybody who survived? How did you grow up?"

Slowly, surely, Marth let go of Sumia's nightgown, and realisation dawned on him, leaping a foot away from them quickly as if he'd been burned.  
He collected himself.  
"I, um, was adopted - found hidden away in the secret room behind the bookshelves in your bedchamber. At least, that's what they told me."

"There's no secret room behind the bookshelves," Chrom spoke slowly, and felt a hand grip his from beside him.

"Yes, there is," Sumia replied.

"Huh?"

In lieu of a response, Sumia made her way over to the back wall of bookshelf cut in half by a floor-length mirror. Slowly, methodically, Sumia removed books, sticking her fingers in the gaps until there was a sharp clicking noise. She dug her fingers into a chunky dent in the mirror's frame, and pulled.  
The mirror made a horrid scraping noise against the floor as it gave way. 

Beyond the door was almost complete darkness. Chrom could make out some vague shapes of furniture inside, but nothing solid - they seemed to move around the more he stared.

"Why in the Gods' names does everybody seem to know more about things that should be my business than I do?" Chrom would have exclaimed if he wasn't so tired. Instead it came out like a sigh.

Sumia shrugged. "I thought you knew," she responded breezily, "Emmeryn told Lissa about it."

As if he hadn't heard the rest of the conversation, Marth ran up to the secret door. "This room! I came back here on my last day in the other Ylisse. The portal was here. Everything was destroyed, though; there might be clues this time around." Marth looked between Chrom and Sumia. "Can we take a look inside?"

Chrom felt a whirlwind of confusion whip up in his gut, but his curiosity outperformed his suspicion. He grabbed a lantern from his desk. "We'll go inside."

  
The room was small and shabby. It didn't resemble any other room in Ylisstol Castle - the sandy brick sloping downwards where Chrom could have sworn there wasn't a staircase above.  
It was pokey enough without the furniture, but with the two desks that took up most of the space in the room, Chrom, Marth and Sumia were practically toe-to-toe.   
There was a bookshelf shoved in at the back wall where the ceiling was at its lowest; blocked off by a cluttered writing table in the centre of the room.   
On the eastern wall, there was some kind of lab equipment with scrawled instructions and some kind of long-dead herbs alongside some that looked far more fresh.

"Sumia, have you been experimenting in here?"

"Hm? No, I never go in here. Why?"

Chrom picked up a fresh sprig of  _ something  _ and twiddled it between his fingers. "Looks like Lissa's been making potions or something, then."

"It's not impossible."

"This bookshelf is the biggest key we have," Marth announced, feeling the spines of different tomes as if they'd tell him their secrets.

"On information about the assassination attempt?" Sumia asked.

"Maybe," Marth responded, "but I was thinking more like information about the portal."

Sumia seated herself on the corner of the dusty central desk. "What kind of information are you looking for?"

Marth took out a book and began to flick through it. "Ideally, who made it. Clearly they knew which time period to go back to - and their magic is both powerful and not reminiscent of anything Ylissean. If we find the creator, then we might be able to find out more about the cause of Ylisse's destruction, and hopefully how to stop it."

"That's clever," Sumia acknowledged, "is there anything that you know so far?"

"All I know is that Chrom is betrayed by someone close to him."

Chrom turned sharply from the lab kit to stare at Marth. "What you said earlier. Is that why you said it?"

Marth snapped his book shut sharply. "I've been watching you all for a while," he confirmed, "looking for clues from within your friendship circle. Not only is Robin a non-Ylissean magic user, but he has control over the government, has access to finances and meets with the Lords, and he keeps secrets from you." He listed the statements, ticking them off with his free hand as he said them.

"But Robin only uses Ylissean magic," Chrom shot back, "and every law he wrote, I carefully reviewed. I could strike him from my counsel at the drop of a hat."

"It's just a suggestion," Marth argued, but he didn't look at all convinced by Chrom’s words. 

Crossing his arms, Chrom planted his feet squarely on the ground as if it would steady his words. "I will not hear any more of this. I want to figure out this mystery as much as you do. However," he pointed in Marth’s direction, "anything you say about Robin will be officially ignored. in such a way."

"This is your life you're risking!"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."”

Marth sighed, looking at Chrom with a forlorn expression. “You know I’m just worried about you, right?”

His heart softened. “I’m not going anywhere. Not this time. I have a family to protect.”

At that, Marth gave a small smile; almost imperceptibly, before he turned to put his book away.

Sumia beckoned towards Chrom in a ‘come with me’ motion, before heading towards the door.   
They sat on the bed, far enough away that Marth wouldn’t hear unless he was trying to listen. 

“How are you feeling?” Sumia asked, cradling Chrom’s jaw in one hand.

He sidled closer to her, pressing a kiss to her wrist. “About all of this? I feel...excited to give Marth a chance to have the family he never got.”

“But what about  _ you _ ? I know this has to be hard. You were expecting another few months to get yourself prepared for fatherhood.”

The words shook Chrom like a branch in the wind. He felt the tears collect once again in his eyes, and leaned his head on Sumia’s shoulder for support. “I’m terrified,” he admitted, “I never thought it would hit me this hard. All I want is to give him everything he needs, but what if I can’t? What if I mess him up worse? He has a hard enough time trusting people already.”

“It’s going to be all right, Chrom. You and I are both his parents; we’ll do this together. You want to do your best for him, and so you will.”

Sumia put everything so simply. It soothed the anxiety out of Chrom in waves. She was his partner in everything; they could surely do this together. “You’re right. I might...need your support from here on out. That being said, you shouldn’t hesitate to rely on me too. I can...no, I  _ will _ , be a good father to our child.”

They shared all but a chaste kiss before Marth came bursting through the door. “I found something!”

“What is it, Marth?” Chrom stood to look at the book he had open.

“It’s a history book! I remember it from the previous timeline, but the pages were so gummed up I couldn’t read it. But look at what’s inside!”

The text appeared to describe Ylisstol’s fateful destruction in great detail. “How could this have been written? Almost everybody died after the calamity; didn’t they? For this to be left in Ylisstol Castle…”

“It has to be some kind of magic.”

“This tome is incredibly important - well done, Marth.” Marth smiled up at Chrom, who ruffled his hair. “What is it called?”

“It’s called the Tales of the Creation.”

-

JULY 16TH

FREDERICK

_ Dearest Robin, _

_ It has now been two weeks since last I saw you, and insurmountable occurrences more have I thought of you. _

_ There is much I wish I could show you in person. My mother's office is one - I think you would be at home here. Her research methods remind me of your own. The library is another. I had no idea Ferox even possessed a library of this magnitude, as I assumed much of its traditions were spoken, but it may be even larger than your haunt at Ylisstol Castle. _

_ Flavia has been very kind to me. I feel like I’ve gained a lot of weight in a short period of time; whether that be due to the jobs I undertake or the food I am eating. The work has been extremely strenuous; as promised, but I've been accepted here as part of the furniture - it makes the strange environment far easier to navigate.  _

_ Still, I miss you more with each passing second. I keep thinking of how you would react to life here; vistas you would like, and meals you wouldn't. Although I am changed by my experience, I long to return to your embrace.  _

_ I have enclosed a few gifts for you so that you may think of me. You probably will not have time to write me back before I return, so I will catch up with you then. _

_ With all of my love, _

_ Frederick _

  
  


Bang. Bang. Bang.

"Little guy; you in there?"

The pounding at Frederick's door continued until he opened it. "Rodrigue, what is it?"

"A bird arrived for you. I thought you ought to see it sooner rather than later." Rodrigue held a small scroll between his thumb and forefinger, gesturing with it in Frederick’s direction.

Frederick went cold. Using birds as a means of communication was expensive and risky - people rarely sent anything via airmail unless it was urgent. "Very well. I should take it now."

"I'm gonna give you some privacy, but Flavia and I will be in the main arena." Rodrigue jerked his thumb in some direction behind his person, and ducked under the doorframe.

Not bothering to wait until Rodrigue had disappeared around the corner before he unfurled the scroll, Frederick had to re-read the text a dozen times before he made any real sense of it.

_ Dear Frederick, _

_ My apologies for the rushed letter, and for disturbing your time away. _

_ Robin has been missing since the day you left. Everybody was under the impression he'd left with you, except for me, of course, but I didn't even know he'd been absent. I offer you my deepest apologies for that oversight. _

_ We have reason to suspect Robin has been taken to Plegia. I thought to inform you that the Shepherds are planning to leave Ylisstol by July 18th and begin their search party. You are welcome to join them, and I am sure that you will.  _

_ If you can meet them at the port in time, they will wait for you until the sunrise of the 25th. Otherwise, take every precaution you can. We have no idea what kind of reception they will receive. _

_ I wish you the best of luck. _

_ Sumia _

Somehow, Frederick felt absolutely nothing. He guessed that it hadn't hit him yet - the thought of Robin going missing was abstract to him.

Frederick packed his things in silence, and went to find Flavia.

-

"You have to leave today?"

Rodrigue and Mina circled Flavia's desk, at which the woman herself sat; surrounded by a particularly hefty mound of paperwork. Frederick had yet to see her actually working on more administerial tasks. He had assumed that Ferox was unlike Ylisse in its methods of managing, but apparently that was less true than previously thought.

Flavia held the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb as if she was getting a headache.

"Yes, as soon as possible. My apologies for cutting the trip so short."

"It's fine - won't you tell me what's going on, though?"

Frederick put his thumb to his lip, trying to think of any reasonable enough half-truth. "I really don't know enough to summarise appropriately, and I don't want to say anything out of place."

Flavia sighed. "Very well. At very least, let me arrange you some transportation home."

"That won't be necessary. My horse is well-rested and in top form."

"You wouldn't appreciate something faster than a horse?"

"...Faster?"

"It  _ is _ an emergency; isn't it?"

"I would be indebted to you. However, I have one small amendment to make. It might sound strange."

"Lay it on me, little guy."

-

JULY 19TH 

FREDERICK

"You're sure this is where you wanna be?" Rodrigue asked incredulously, jerking the stirrups of his pegasus to begin its descent.

"It's a bit late to ask that," Frederick pointed out. They were already at the port between Ferox and Plegia, or, at least, as close as they could get without arousing suspicion. Officially, the issues between the three states were over, but it was tense, and there was little need to rock the boat.

The landing was uncomfortable; Rodrigue was a little trigger-happy, and swooped down almost vertically once Frederick had given him the okay.   
Frederick was surprised he hadn’t gotten any travel sickness on their journey so far.

“You still won’t let me know why you’re here?”

“When the time comes, I will write you. For now, I’m not even sure what to expect.”

“That’s fair.” The pegasus jerked, its hooves hitting the sand, slowing from a run to a walk before it allowed its passengers to deboard. “Just make sure you  _ do  _ keep in touch, okay? You’re family, so...come back and visit some time.”

Frederick hopped off the pegasus and threw Rodrigue a smile that was easier than he felt. “Of course. Thank you very much for taking care of me.”

“Anytime, little guy.”

-

On foot, Frederick made his way to the port entrance proper. Sumia hadn’t given him particularly strict instructions, but the town that held the port was small and the Shepherds would probably stick out like a sore thumb, as usual.

The weather was warm; sunlight kissed Frederick’s skin in a way that was unfamiliar to him. He had nearly forgotten that the sky didn’t always bite at you from all his time in the colder part of Ferox.   
It also made him aware of just how much his muscles ached. As promised, Flavia really had worked him to the bone.  
Frederick wanted to look for a place to rest his weary legs, but his sense of urgency pushed him onwards to find his colleagues.

Cliffs framed the port town which was beautiful as it was lively. Houses made of once-pale wood stained over time burrowed deep into sandy soil; the still background to an otherwise bustling scene.    
Hefty townspeople carried boxes of fish and imported supplies over their shoulders. Merchants called out to the streets like it was market day, gesturing to their colourful wares in hopes of catching someone’s eye.   
Children mostly hung around the beachside and pier; playing games and fishing with confidence most landlocked adults could never hope to achieve.

Frederick was surprised at first to see so few boats sitting where the shore met the sea, but then supposed that trade relations between Ferox and Valm were still budding, let alone those relations between Ferox and Plegia.   
There was one inn and one pub in the town, which seemed to be the only suitable places for the Shepherds to rest.  
Since the noon sun was still high in the sky, Frederick found it hard to believe that they’d be sitting around in an inn all day.

It was busy in the pub, for daytime.  
A couple of bartenders busied themselves pouring ale at the far end of the hall, and a decent number of the tables were occupied. It was still cozy enough in there to spot such a motley crew immediately; they had pushed two tables together to fit everybody.  
Sully was rocking back and forth on her chair; balancing her pint of ale precariously as she gazed nonchalantly out of the window.  
Marth and Libra sat beside one another, but couldn’t be less interested in talking; both looking in alternate directions as if they were thinking very hard about something.  
Stahl and Ricken appeared to be playing some sort of card game, far more excitable than the rest of the team, who were chatting lowly. 

Chrom sat with his back to Frederick, but his form was still instantly recognisable.

"Something about this meeting feels illicit," Frederick commented as he pulled out the sole empty chair at Chrom's side. "be that as it may, Milord, it is good to see you again."

Before Frederick could sit, Chrom stood, pulling him into a strong bear hug. "Frederick, Gods," Chrom scoffed, patting his back, "have you gotten even larger?"

Frederick returned the embrace. "I highly doubt that," he replied, pushing Chrom back at the shoulders to get a good look at his face. "It's hardly been a while since I left Ylisse."

"Something definitely seems different about you," Libra commented with a neutral expression. It was impossible to tell if he was complimenting or degrading him.  
Frederick elected to ignore it.

"Libra, I am rather surprised to see you here. How is Lady Sumia?"

Libra tapped his fingers against an otherwise untouched pint of ale. "She is healthy, and her care is assured by Lissa and Maribelle."

"Very well."

An awkward silence followed which Frederick had no idea how to and no inclination to want to fill. He and Libra still had few good words to say to one another.

Instead, Marth spoke up.

"You are looking well, Sir Frederick. How was your stay with Flavia?"

Finally, Frederick seated himself at the table. "It was enlightening, thank you, Marth. The workload, however was frightful, and I have higher respect for Feroxi soldiers than I did prior."

"If  _ you _ say it was daunting, then it must have been ugly," Sully laughed into her drink.

"Well, Frederick was born half-soldier, after all. We can't help not being able to compete." Stahl's quip at Frederick's heritage was clearly in jest, but something about it put Frederick's back up. Or maybe it was the way nobody seemed to bat an eyelid. They all knew, then.

"You are right, Stahl. I was born a baker's son, after all - famed, I am sure, for their skill in battle."

Stahl frowned. "No, Frederick, I was talking about you being Feroxi."

"Hm? Oh, forgive me for my lack of awareness. Such a callous comment is likely to be misunderstood, after all."

"Damn, Frederick the Irritable. He didn't mean it in a cruel way," Sully defended.

"Regardless of the intent, careless words can cause misunderstandings."

"I'm sorry, Sir Frederick. I was being an ass." Stahl spoke carefully, as if he was taking time to pick each individual word.

"I accept your apology, Stahl. Thank you for taking it so gracefully."

Chrom picked up his pint of ale and raised the rim to his lips. "You've changed more than physically." He took a swig.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You're more confident in yourself," he clarified. "It's good to see."

"I...thank you, Milord." Frederick cleared his throat. "May I be so bold as to ask you what the plan is?"

"Well, we weren't expecting you to arrive so quickly. There's a merchant ship that departs on the morning of the 25th, but since we are all here, it might do us good to snoop around and see if there's anything leaving a little earlier."

“Yes, I should like to move with haste.”

“I’m sorry, Frederick. I know this is hard for you.”

In all honesty, Frederick was still numb to it all. “Yes, well,” he began, “how did you all find out that he left for Plegia?”

Chrom lifted his knapsack to his lap with a  _ thunk.  _ “You should take a look at this letter,” was all he responded.

The parchment, expensive as it was, had gone all crumpled in Chrom’s care, and the ink was slightly smudged. The text was still legible, though; Frederick spread the parchment over the table and tried to comprehend the words in front of him.

“ _...Prince… _ ” The table was solemn with silence as Frederick took it all in. “How could this be? King Gangrel bore no sons.”

“We have reason to suspect that he was born to King Validar, which would have made him the son of a duke at the time.” Chrom corrected awkwardly. They clearly had all gone through this conversation long before he’d arrived.

_ The Kingdom of Plegia delights in cordially inviting Governors Chrom, Sumia and guests to the late coronation party of King Validar, with special news: _

_ The lost prince Robin has finally returned home.  _

_ Please join us on August 15th to celebrate this joyous occasion. _

Frederick thought that he had prepared himself to find out anything about Robin’s past. Perhaps it was foolish in its naivete, to think that nothing had to change as long as they were prepared.   
He had known from the beginning that Robin’s situation wasn’t normal. That was part of why he had been so suspicious.   
But the reality of it came quickly, with a sucker punch to the face for having dared to believe any different.

He...should really give up, he thought to himself. It was the smart thing to do. This hadn’t been the most desirable outcome, but his loyalty at the end of the day had to begin and end with his Lord. 

Would Robin give up like this?

If their roles were switched, would Robin simply have let Frederick go the moment he flew out of his reach? Frederick couldn’t imagine Robin even living the mundane life Frederick had, let alone making such a choice. 

Robin was still the Robin who had said he loved Frederick. He was still the same person who had shared all of those moments, who had dreamt of a family and a home in Ylisse. With those honest words, Frederick still had a chance to reach him.

Frederick set the note down on the table. “I will begin my search for information now. I care not how conspicuous we are, nor how much money we have to spend. We will board for Plegia by the second nightfall.”

  
  


-

JULY 18TH

ROBIN

  
  


Validar had insisted on sharing mealtimes with Robin. The time Validar and Robin _did_ get to spend together was, for lack of a better term, incredibly awkward.  
Systematically, Validar would ask Robin how he was, and what he had done with his day, and Robin would respond, as usual, with nothing of much value. At first it had seemed like Validar wanted to repair some close relationship they used to have, but maybe he was already giving up - he spent most hours of his day tucked away almost completely out of sight. 

It was those times that Robin was most interested in. 

There must have been a lot of work to catch up on; cleaning up after Gangrel’s mess, no doubt, had led to the postponing of Validar’s official crowning and was the reason why Aversa had attended Chrom and Sumia’s ball in his stead.  
From what Robin had learned from Aversa, and a few of the friendlier staff members, Plegian land was fragmented. Ylisse only knew the whole country by one name, but in reality, the title of King in Plegia was not one that was totally accepted.   
Thanks to trade, and sharing religion, there was some sense of peace here, but not so much unity. Values and traditions appeared to differ quite greatly where they laid borders between states, which made it hard to enforce one rule everywhere.

Robin cut into the lamb on his plate thoughtfully. “Are you planning to meet with local lords?”

Validar’s own utensils clattered slightly where he dropped them. “Pardon?”

“Oh-I mean, about your crowning. It’s due time that they discuss some demands with you, I’m guessing - what you’ll promise them in order for them to support you in the future; all of that.”

Clearing his throat, Validar picked his fork back up. “You were always a smart boy,” he began.

“Thank you, Papa.”

“Too smart, perhaps. I should have hoped by now that you had learned to mind your manners, and only ask about appropriate topics.”

Robin was taken aback, and a little abashed. “I...see. My apologies.” Any feelings of guilt or shame were much overshadowed, however, by curiosity - Validar was undoubtedly a private man, but this was the strongest reaction Robin had ever gotten out of him.

With that, he made up his mind. He was going to delve some more into this political divide, and into Validar’s ‘work’.

Dinner was a short event after that.

Robin waited until Validar was long out of sight before he broke his usual routine.

Donning a pale, cotton tunic, Robin carried spare linens over from his room to his father’s chambers. The disguise was poor, but it worked to mask him as staff from far enough away.  
His bet paid off - Validar was, as he’d thought, not in his room, and the door was unlocked. 

Validar’s bedroom was huge, but had almost nothing in it.   
Sunlight streamed brightly through net curtain, casting huge squares of light over the marble floor. His bed, similarly, was light, canopied over with more net likely to keep bugs out overnight.   
The stone desk housed a few letters, mostly opened, with a quill, and some blank parchment. All of the letters seemed innocuous; some congratulating him on his new status and others appeared to be about tax or something equally boring.   
There were a couple of books, too; some strange ancient titles Robin couldn’t understand which looked much leafed over, and some brand new fiction books that didn’t appear to have even been opened.

The only thing which struck Robin as odd about the room apart from its decided emptiness was the presence of a huge fireplace at the edge of it. He hadn’t seen any fireplaces elsewhere in the castle; nor in any inn they had passed on their travels within Plegia.   
He supposed that it probably did get cold here, too. But, then, why wouldn’t they be a staple?

Robin approached the fireplace with more caution than one would usually show an inanimate object. He squatted at its base.  
“Bricked up,” he commented, patting the throat of the fireplace disappointedly.  
Maybe, then, it was a statement of wealth?

That was when Robin noticed something.  
There was something...just within his reach, where the fireplace was bricked. It felt...maybe...like a frame?

Robin tugged, and it came loose easily - so easily that he had to shoot out his other hand to make sure the thing didn’t fall and crack to pieces in the firepit.   
Awkwardly, he pulled the frame out from the base. It was backwards, and probably about forty inches in width; and well over double that in length. Robin turned it around and lay it flat on the floor.

It appeared to be a family photo. Validar stood at the back of a chaise lounge, his imposing figure exactly the same as it was now, barring a few new grey hairs.   
And there, predictably, was Robin - probably only a few years old, dressed to the nines in some fancy little suit with a bow tie, with his trademark curly white hair that appeared to be pulled back in a ponytail, with two long ringlets either side of his face falling into his lap.  
The third person in the painting obviously had to be his mother. Her hair was stark white as his; their faces almost splitting images of one another. She reclined, relaxed, into the chaise lounge with Robin at her side. The most striking thing about her was that she donned the coat Robin always wore. It was probably originally hers.

Robin pressed the pads of his fingers against her visage. “Mama,” he recalled, and stinging tears formed in his eyes at how much it hurt to see her ( _ again,  _ it was definitely  _ again _ ), “what do I do without you?”

-

_ “I already told you that there ain’t no room left on the ship. You’ll have to wait a week for the next one to leave port.” _

_ Robin’s mother yanked him closer, nestled between her coat and her leg. “And I told you I can’t wait that long! I need to get out of this bloody warzone for the sake of me and my son.” _

_ The ship crew laughed. “Get out of this warzone to go to  _ Ylisse _? You’re heading in the wrong direction, lady.” _

_ His mother huffed and shoved a coin purse into the crew’s chest. “I don’t care where we sleep; you can leave us with your cattle for all I care. Just get us on that boat.” _

_ The crew stared at the coin in their hands for a moment. “...Let me talk to the captain, all right? Just stand on the deck.” _

-

It was the first time Robin had recalled a memory with such clarity during the day. It was only small, but it was enough for him to know that his mother was everything to him.

“It appears you still don’t know how to heed my words.”

Robin stood quickly at the voice and dusted himself off. “Papa, I, I’m sorry, I just came in to look for you and I,”

“Save your excuses.” Validar sat on the bed boredly. “Did you remember anything?”

He shook his head and wiped away his tears. “No, not really. She just looks so much like me.”

Validar’s eyes flickered down to the painting on the floor. “I do not believe in mistakes, but if I did, she would be one of my worst.”

“What?” Robin couldn’t help seething at that.

“She took you away from me,” Validar responded simply, “she tore our family apart and forced you to come with her. It nearly ruined my life - my standing,  _ everything  _ I had built.”

“Why?”

“Because she disagreed with me.” Robin didn’t understand anything. His head hurt. “Since your curiosity appears to be insatiable, I should have to direct my entirely overwhelmed attention to you. Come with me if you want to know the truth.”  
Validar led Robin past the bedrooms, down a winding corridor he’d never set foot in, with so many rooms it was hard to keep track of how far they’d gone.  
Finally, they stopped at an old archway, and turned into it, leading to a corridor made almost entirely of glass, save the floor. Creeping plants wound their way over the glass, and beyond them Robin could only make out trees and other fauna.   
At the other end of the corridor was a door. Validar unlocked it, and held the door open for Robin to enter.

The room was huge as Ylisstol Castle’s entrance hall.   
At the far end, there was more glass; the room appeared to be half-stone and half greenhouse. The plants creeped and crawled every which way but cut off at the very definite point where the glass ended.  
The stone side of the room, closer to Robin was made almost entirely of the same white marble. A black chandelier hung from the ceiling. The west wall was covered over with red velvet curtain. At the far wall, there were a few lab tables, set up with similar equipment to what Robin had seen Libra use, although the tables were far cleaner. 

At the centre of the stone room was a table. It was long, and too high to sit at - there were no chairs surrounding it either.

“What is this? Some kind of surgery?”

“No, Robin; it is a shrine.”

“A shrine?”

Validar made his way over to the west wall and tugged a golden rope, pulling the red curtains open swiftly.

A huge painting of a dragon hung above a table that was empty save a few candles and a white square plate.

“Is this your god?”

“Yes, this is Lord Grima.”

Robin’s whole world turned sideways with the words. He tried not to let anything show on his face. “That’s...an interesting name.”

Validar turned to face him with a horrible smile decorating his expression. “You haven’t heard it before?”

“I am sure that I would have remembered.”

“Funny words from an amnesiac.”

Robin accepted this without comment. “What do you...offer him?”

“Well, this shrine has never been used. But regular ones... people may offer him the first or the best of their crop; alcohol and fine clothing, but it much depends on what they are wishing for and what they have available.”

“You don’t use this shrine?”

Validar’s smile grew wider. “No, this shrine has a very special purpose.”

A shiver crept down Robin’s spine. “What will you use it for?” He just about got the words out. All of his senses were telling him to  _ run. _

“Oh, this shrine is not for  _ me  _ to use, Robin. This shrine was converted specifically for  _ you. _ ”

Those words, unfortunately, were exactly what he was expecting to hear. He desperately didn’t want to know the rest, but he was in too deep. “What would I even ask for?”

“Exactly what your mother never wanted to happen. You are going to ask Him to save the world.”

“Save the world?! How-what-I don’t understand  _ any  _ of this at all,” Robin babbled frustratedly.

“If you can summon his power, then you can prevent a tragedy from befalling all of us.”

“Why does it have to be me?”

“Because, Robin, you are the ideal vessel.” 

“ _ Vessel?! _ ”

“You were brought up to be fused with him. A god in the form of a man. Infinite power to do all kinds of wonders with a physical attachment to this realm. The ultimate being.”

“Then why,” Robin spat, “why did my mother protest so much against it, if she knew that it would save everybody?”

“She was...worried about you. Worried about your humanity ‘disappearing’,” he made inverted commas with his fingers. “That you would become less of yourself by making Him part of you.”

“Was she right?”

“We cannot be certain. There is little evidence to suggest either way what would happen. But I had to try.”

“I...see.” Robin didn’t. “Will you tell me more about the offering?”

Validar gestured to the tall table. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

  
  
  


-

JULY 20TH

FREDERICK

An aged sailor leant against the boxes he’d set down at the mouth of an alleyway. “Well, what’s a wealthy young man like you doing down in these parts anyway?”

“I happen to be advising my Ylissean guests on the possibilities of trade routes to Valm and Plegia.”

“Ain’t you an Ylissean fella, too?”

Frederick gestured down at himself. “My, no. I work under Lady Flavia herself.”

“A northern boy, eh? Guess that explains why you’re so damned pale.”

“I get that wherever I go.”

“I bet you do. So you’re searching for a ship to leave for Plegia? I dunno if they’ll be too friendly if you try to meet without an appointment.”

“Oh, they expect our arrival. We were going to leave on a merchant ship departing in five days, but are seeking to get there earlier. Negotiations will probably take longer than our registered timeframe, after all.”

“I hear ya. Bosses want everything done now, but that’s a whole other country. Listen, I would love to help ya, but I got all these boxes to shift onto that-” he pointed to a relatively large merchant ship docked at the beach, “in two hours time.”

“Well, I am more than happy to lend you a hand.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear. What did you say your name was?”

“Rodrigue.”

-

JULY 23RD

The Shepherds knew they were reaching Plegia when the heat became dry and harder to breathe in. It was a miracle they’d gotten here so fast - the captain said their destination was somewhere just south of the border between Plegia and Valm. That meant their journey was far from over; they had to find some suitable transportation even further south to Plegia Castle.

Docking was smoother than expected. Chrom closed a hefty sack of money into the captain’s palm as they said their goodbyes, and pretended to search around for a nearby inn to stay at.

“So...where do they keep the horses around here, d’ya think?” Sully scratched her chin as she stared outward where greenery turned to desert.

“We won’t be taking any horses, Sully.” Chrom responded, marching purposefully onward.

“What, you want us to walk there?”

“Look at that,” Chrom gestured in front of them, “do you think a horse would get anywhere fast in heat so searing you can see its waves? Let alone the deep sand.”

“Get to the point, genius.”

“I will soon enough.”

-

They closed in on a large building atop a hill, on the outskirts of Plegia’s own port town.   
“D’ya see that?”

“Looks like horses to me,” Sully muttered.

“Not quite,” Frederick corrected, “look at the size of them.”

“Now you mention it, they’re  _ huge _ ! Chrom, what is that?”

“That, my good friend, is called a camel. They are also colloquially known as the only ride capable of taking us to Plegia castle, lest we find something that will fly the lot of us.”

“You really have this all figured out, huh?”

“Thank Emmeryn,” Chrom replied, “She went to Plegia with our father long before I was born, and told Lissa and I all about it. I was able to arrange some transportation in advance because of it.”

“You have contacts in Plegia?” Frederick asked incredulously.

Chrom simply shrugged, trying to hide his smile. “What’s an Exalt without his connections?”

-

JULY 28TH

Plegia Castle was smaller than expected. Be that as it may, it was a beacon in the long stretch of desert, especially while they were so thirsty.  
The Shepherds had found it a little difficult to find anyone willing to sell them fresh water, and most bodies of water were too far away for them to justify a stop-off for Libra to perform a purification rite. They had slept very little; only when it had gotten too dark for them to see where they were going, and risen as soon as the light allowed.

“Look, an oasis,” Chrom pointed out. “We should go there and collect some water before we reach the castle.”

“Milord, it probably comes under King Validar’s jurisdiction. Don’t you think that would be rude?”

“I am sure that they won’t mind us freshening up a little before we arrive. Might I remind you that we have no idea what kind of reception we will receive upon arrival, anyway. It might be best to hydrate as much as we can first.”

Frederick was antsy. Nerves crawled up over him like tiny bugs were exploring his arms and legs. Chrom was right, though. It would be wisest to prepare as much as possible.

Although their visit to Plegia so far hadn’t been the most amicable, it was not nearly as unpleasant as they were braced for.  
Many Plegians were grateful to be rid of Gangrel’s rule, and sympathetic to Emmeryn’s sacrifice, which meant that most of the animosity came from the unknown.   
There were also a few people from Valm hanging around local establishments, however so many Plegians assumed they were from there, until they heard them speak. It was impossible to disguise themselves after that.

No armies or officers came for them as they had expected, though. Plegia seemed fairly...relaxed; perhaps too relaxed for a newly crowned nation especially. Somehow that put Frederick on worse edge than if they had approached.

“Very well,” Frederick responded, and they made their way over to the oasis not too far from the castle proper.

“First and foremost, we must find Robin. There is to be no negotiation until we see him in the flesh. He will have his own plan of action; I am sure, so it’s wise not to plan too far ahead of actually meeting him,” Chrom explained where they sat around the water. “It would be wise not to say anything too inflammatory to King Validar before then. He has cordially invited us to his coronation, after all.”

“Forgive me if I am less than amicable,” Frederick grumbled around the mouth of his canvas.

“See Robin for himself before you make your judgement,” Chrom reminded Frederick, but his fingernails dug into his canvas so sharply that Frederick could see the whites of his knuckles. 

“We should get going,” Frederick responded, already standing to his full height. “I do not want to waste any more of the light.”

-

Sully squatted in the dirt where they all stood, just a few feet from the castle’s imposing doors.  
“So, what’s the plan?”

“We knock,” Chrom responded.

“ _ Knock?  _ Didn’t these guys steal our brother? We should storm that fuckin’ place!”

Frederick sent her a withering look. “Did you not hear anything we planned all of  _ fifteen minutes ago _ ?”

“I thought we were kidding!”

It was all Frederick could do to leave her squatting there, and walk the final steps up to the door.   
The iron knocker was heavy in his hand, but he still rapped it too hard, making a booming noise likely to be heard all the way down the halls.

All was silent for a short while.

A small woman in white was the one who finally answered the door. “Pardon me; I was about to say that we aren’t expecting any guests. But you do not look like our usual guests.” She squinted at them, more confusion than unkindness in her features.

“Pardon the suddenness of our visit,” Chrom patted Frederick’s back and rounded in front of him. “My name is Chom, and I am the Exalt of Ylisse,” he bared his shoulder with the brand of the Exalt on it as if it would mean anything to the woman. “I would very much appreciate an audience with King Validar, as soon as he is available.”

“Exalt of…” Realisation dawned on her features. She gave a sharp curtsy and bowed her head low. “Your majesty! This is so rude of me, but I have to check with my boss before I let anybody inside. Could you just wait here? I will only be five minutes; you have my word.”

“That won’t be a problem. Thank you for your kindness.”

After five minutes, a tall, gangly man with dark hair greeted them. “You must be the Shepherds, and Exalt Chrom, I assume. I am Validar. Forgive me; although it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, you are rather early for the coronation ceremony. Did we get the dates wrong on our invite?”

“Lord Validar,” Chrom held out his hand, which Validar gingerly took, “forgive us for our early arrival. We actually had a few things to discuss with you, which is why we made the journey.”

Validar backed up against the door, holding his arms open as if to welcome them inside. “Well, I couldn’t very well turn away the Exalt himself after he journeyed all this way to meet me. Please, do come inside.”

The entrance hall was massive; all marble floors and big, bright windows, making an echo whenever anybody spoke. It was a relief to be out of the baking heat, but Frederick still felt sweaty in his riding gear.

The loud pitter-patter of footsteps echoed, too, down from the western hall. “Papa, do we have guests? I thought we weren’t expecting anyone for-oh, my! Look who it is!”

Frederick turned and sunlight hit him square in the eyes; his eardrums thinning from a loud thump to a gentle ring turning all his thoughts to mush.   
A young man with his lover’s visage hung back a few feet, resting gently on his tiptoes in the light of the nearest window. White hair fell in messy curls all the way down to his mid-back, complimenting the white cotton tunic he wore.

“Robin? Is that you?” Chrom asked incredulously from behind Frederick. “Look at your hair! How in the Gods’ names-”

Chrom breezed past Frederick’s frozen form, obviously going for a hug, but Robin caught him in a warm handshake. “It is good to see you,” he said, and his eyes were as calculating as they were warm. He leaned in just enough to mutter something into Chrom’s ear.

“Now, Robin, what do we say about whispering in others’ presence?” Validar’s tone was initially warm, but the words had some strict underlayer.

Robin straightened his back and looked guiltily at his father. “My apologies, Papa. These are very dear friends of mine. They took care of me for many years.”

Validar seemed to accept this. “Well, that is all the more reason to show them our hospitality. We should seat them in the dining hall.”

“What an excellent idea. I’m sure they are all hungry.”

Validar began to lead the group all down the eastern corridor, but Frederick couldn’t bring himself to move, trapped with his mouth hanging open like a fool.

Chrom said something quietly to Robin, and jogged to keep up with the group. 

Robin finally turned his eyes onto Frederick. They were full of recognition, and still of affection. “My, look at you,” Robin gushed, placing his warm hands on Frederick’s shoulders. It almost made Frederick feel whole again.

“Look at  _ me _ ,” Frederick scoffed, “your hair has grown a foot since last I saw you. What happened, Robin? Are you all right?”

Robin’s eyes lit up in caution. “Of course I’m all right! Let’s go to the dining hall, shall we?” He grabbed Frederick’s hand and led him forcefully down the eastern hallway.

“But Robin, I-”

“We are being watched,” Robin muttered almost quiet enough that Frederick couldn’t hear it. It shut Frederick up almost immediately, though. He nodded, not that Robin could see it, and let himself be pulled all the way to the dining hall.

-

Dining with Validar was...tense. Robin had left Frederick’s side almost as soon as he joined it, and it hurt to say the least.  
He sat between Validar and Aversa, guarding him like sentinels for all of the dinner’s conversation. Chrom was directly opposite Robin, with Frederick at his side, but very little of value could be said. Frederick, surprisingly, did not dislike the food, but he still picked at his plate in sullen quiet.

Robin smiled wider than Frederick had ever seen, but it definitely didn’t reach his eyes.

“So you’re telling me that Plegian magic made your hair grow?” Chrom asked incredulously, almost perfectly immune to the tense atmosphere. Frederick was grateful for his charisma.

“It’s something to do with my magic specifically. The stronger I get, the longer it will probably grow,” Robin bit the tip of his thumb as he thought about it.

“That’s incredible. So, what is the difference between Ylissean and Plegian styles of magic?”

“I, too, am incredibly interested in the difference,” Libra chimed in.

“Ah, well, forgive me, I don’t want to bore everyone else at the table, so I’ll keep it simple. Ylisseans use tomes - power words, if you will. In Plegia, we work through contacting our God Himself, through  _ sacrifices  _ or other rituals usually. So, instead of channeling power the way Ylisseans do, we actually trade power to use for ourselves. Does that make any sense?” Robin was looking Libra straight in the eye when he said it, saying the word  _ sacrifices  _ slowly and obviously enough that Validar stopped to look at him. Robin didn’t meet his gaze; eyes still boring into Libra’s.

Libra nodded impassively. “How fascinating. You should explain it to me in greater detail at some time.”

“I would be more than happy to. In fact, Papa, might I take our guests on a tour of the castle?”

Validar’s lips thinned out into a line. “I am sure they are all weary, and would much prefer to rest before you wrangle them about like ragdolls.”

“I am sure that their rooms are not all prepared yet, and that they would much like to see the sights. Wouldn’t you all?”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Chrom nodded, swallowing the last of his meal. 

Validar waved his hand in the air dismissively. “Very well, then. But you will take Aversa with you. She still knows the castle grounds better than you.”

-

Robin led them around the castle, to the ballroom, audience hall, kitchens and barracks. Whilst Plegia was beautiful and the castle was even more so in its grandeur, the tour was mundane as the table conversation had been. It was only once they walked away from the barracks on the outer walls of the castle that Robin turned to say something interesting. “Aversa, are you busy?”

Aversa looked up from her nails to stare at Robin, almost boredly. “I have to watch you for as long as you lack supervision; you know that. However, I am getting desperate to use the bathroom, and will probably be there for quite some time. As long as you stay right where I’ve left you, it shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Then we will absolutely do that.” Aversa disappeared into the shadows quickly, and Robin ushered the group further around the back of the castle. “Up here,” he commanded, climbing some steps built into the wall.

Robin led them onto a lush rooftop garden, filled with all kinds of leafy desert plants. The moon was high in the sky and the stars were all out, but the tables were lit with pretty golden lanterns, making it even brighter. Robin sat on a cushion on the ground. “Please, join me.”

The Shepherds all gathered around, but Frederick dithered, unsure of where to sit. Robin patted the spot next to him, and when he sat, took one of Frederick’s hands in both of his own. Frederick melted, leaning his head tiredly against Robin’s shoulder.

“This may be the only time we all get to meet without being watched,” Robin began slowly, as if he was still worried about being heard. “I need you all to listen carefully, therefore, and act with utmost caution.” The Shepherds were entirely quiet, for once. “I am sure that you are already aware that you cannot trust Validar. This may, however, come as a shock to you all - I came to Plegia by choice.”

Frederick tensed, but dared not move from his position at Robin’s side.

“You didn’t tell me anything,” Chrom said, hurt, “I thought you had been kidnapped.”

“There was no time. The moment I found out I had to leave. It is true that I was not kidnapped, but I didn’t have much of a choice in  _ how  _ I left.”

“Then what in the Gods’ names is going on?”

“Chrom, you are always patient with me. I am going to ask you once again to give me the benefit of the doubt here. If I do not stay in Plegia, then a great disaster is to befall Ylisse; perhaps far further than that. It could destroy...everything.”

Chrom and Marth exchanged a look.

“Does this have anything to do with The Fell Dragon?”

“The who?” Robin asked.

“The calamity from my timeline.”

“I can’t be certain yet. In fact, while we have time, tell me everything you know. We should compare notes.”

The Shepherds settled in for a long evening of catching up.


	2. fairytales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chrom, frederick and robin get some answers, but sometimes answers cause more problems than they do solutions. 
> 
> nothing motivates you like a common enemy!

_???_

_Robin_

_Sunlight nosed its way in through gaps in the curtains. It was the only confirmation Robin had that it was daytime - time had begun to float and twist on a new axis since he had first set foot in the hotel room.  
_ _The book Robin was re-reading sat heavy in his hands - his arm beginning to lose its strength as he lay on his side._

_His mother sat at the opposite end of the room, writing with a furrowed brow so characteristic of her expression that a permanent crease had formed in the skin there._

_She was almost always writing. In the rare times that she wasn’t putting pen to paper, she was peeping through those gaps in the curtains, or sewing at the little machine by the wardrobe.  
_ _In her rarest moments, she was out. She never told Robin what she was doing. He could guess, though; she came back with bundles of food, thread and occasionally fabric.  
_ _Despite the fact that she was so worried about being seen, she always wore her trademark purple cloak. It must have made her look strange in public. She clutched it closer to her as if it were a protective talisman, though._

 _His mother’s presence only made him more restless. No matter how focused on something she was, she seemed to know exactly what Robin was doing._ _  
__At least when she was out, he could relax and (maybe) open a curtain._

_“When can I go outside?” The words left Robin’s mouth easily enough. They almost had a routine in place._

_“Not this again.” His mother spoke sharply, as if that was the end of that._

_“I cannot stay inside a room forever. You should know that, after what happened with Validar.”_

_"Don’t you_ dare _mention his name!”_

_Robin ignored the danger creeping into her voice. “Sooner or later you are going to have to let me out, whether you’re ready for that or not.”_

_His mother turned her whole body to face him. “What part of ‘it’s not safe’ do you not understand? Do you think I ferried you all the way here just to get dragged back to Plegia Castle?”_

_“There are no Grimleal in Ylisse,” Robin spoke the words often enough that they felt like a mantra._

_“You don’t know that!” She spat back._

_Robin snapped his book shut sharply. "What is even the_ point _in me being here?"_

 _“The point,” her voice rising with every word, “how dare you?! You have no_ idea _what I risked to get you out of there.”_

 _"No," he spat back, "I don't know. All that I_ do _know is that, since we left Papa's house, the only thing that's changed for me is the weather!"_

_"And you should think yourself lucky on that count; you ungrateful little boy."_

_Robin shook his head, laughing bitterly. "You were never going to tell me anything," he realised. "Did you hope I'd forget? Become so at peace with - with_ captivity _, that I wouldn't wonder anymore why we left Plegia all those years ago?"_

_His mother had the grace to look ashamed. "Never once did I think that way."_

_"Liar!" Robin yelled._

_And, as his rage peaked, the world seemed to crash and crumble; the ground curling with his toes and pulling him in as if he could become one with mantle. His vision darkened and all he could feel was the roaring in his ears and the distinct sensation of falling._   
  


_"Not again!" His mother would go on to say; tearing at the air as if it would bend its will to return her son. But the wind, unwise of her plight, held Robin ensnared._ _  
__She would nearly lose her own life, ignoring the earthquake that collapsed the hotel that day._

_Robin, unconscious of his own magic, would only be found days after in a crater by the riverside, his memories of the event wiped. His mother would grow to be grateful every time that he forgot._

-

  
  


JULY 29TH

ROBIN

"I hope you all understand why I have to stay," Robin spoke finally; taking a moment to catch his breath and string through the complicated thoughts he had.

"You can't stop Validar alone; surely," Chrom urged. "How can we help?"

Robin simply shook his head. "You can't risk your standing by creeping around the palace. Validar's coronation will be a key moment in establishing connections between our nations."

"I'm not going to stand by while you prevent an apocalypse on your own."

"You have to think about your people first, Chrom. They need the stability."

"I _am_ thinking about my people!" Chrom argued hotly. "There will be no stability to speak of if they are all dead."  
Chrom's words stabbed Robin in the heart. If Chrom knew that it might have been Robin who caused the calamity, he probably wouldn't have spoken so harshly.   
"Robin, I have to protect my child," he added, placing his hand on Marth's shoulder.

The Shepherds didn't miss that interaction. They had found out earlier in the evening that Marth was from the future, but it was a whole other bag of worms to know the real truth of it.

"Then Marth is…" Frederick nodded in Chrom's direction.

"You finally told him, then," Robin spoke, looking only at Marth.

“It was the right time,” Marth responded. “I’m surprised you didn’t tell him before I did.”

“You asked me not to.”

“He’s your best friend, Robin.”

“Respectfully, Marth,” Frederick chimed in before Robin could formulate a response, “I am sure that Robin would have said something had he deemed you a threat. I don’t know what it is that you are thinking, but Robin chose to trust your word and make a deal with you - I hardly see a reason to be attacking him for doing as you asked.”  
Robin looked up at Frederick; his sure expression betraying nothing except his trust and affection. Any defences Robin had begun to think about slipped away.

“Forgive me, Frederick; I just don’t see why he would trust me.”

“I should think that...after everything he has experienced, he wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. After all; your experiences bear similarities.”

“If you wanted to know; you could have just...asked,” Robin added pitifully.

"And you would have told me?" Marth scoffed.

"What reason have I to lie?"

Chrom nudged Marth, who had turned his gaze downwards. "I am…sorry, Robin. I still have my own trust issues to work through, I think."

"It's okay. I didn't treat you in the friendliest of manners when we last met."

"I'm glad you two are starting to settle your differences," Chrom interrupted, "but with eyes to what we were talking about prior, Robin, I'm afraid I can't budge."

Robin sighed. He was sure he'd wake up with a headache tomorrow from the stress of it all. "I figured that you probably wouldn't. Just…do me a favour; all right?"

"What is it?"

"Wait for me to contact you. I haven't figured out all of the details yet, so,"

"On two conditions," Chrom held up two fingers, "one, that you update us regularly about what you've found. Two, that if you haven't a solid plan of action by the coronation, we make a move regardless."

It wasn't that simple. Robin had a feeling Validar would take a long time to take down. "Chrom, I don't know if-"

"Not budging, Robin."

"Fine. _Fine_. But you have to work with me if anything changes."

"You know that I will."

The thought that Chrom had come all this way for him, and was willing to risk so much, made him feel as guilty as it did grateful. "Thank you," he choked out, "for coming back for me."  
  


JULY 29TH 

FREDERICK

If Frederick’s head felt heavy before, it was like lead by midnight. His shoulders could hardly hold him up as the Shepherds silently evacuated the rooftop.  
Only he and Robin lingered; of course, they did, there was too much left to say between them. Words failed him, though. Try as Frederick might, all manner of language proficiency he claimed turned to mush in his stress.

Robin had let go of Frederick at one point, somewhat awkwardly. Frederick supposed it was healthy to have a certain amount of shame - after all, the things that Chrom and Robin seemed to know, about this calamity, and about betrayal, were as new for Frederick as they were for the rest of the Shepherds.

When, finally, Frederick spoke, he simply asked, “how long have you known?”

Robin squirmed in his seat. “That’s...difficult to say.”

“Then try harder,” Frederick said through his teeth.

“A lot of it...I didn’t know until I got here. That was why I came here in the first place - to understand.”  
Robin sighed resignedly, and Frederick stayed silent, not satisfied with the unfinished explanation.  
“But, in general? I don’t even know. Strange things have been happening to me since I woke up that day. Belongings I couldn’t make heads or tails of. Fragments of memories that made as much sense as dreams,” Robin sighed, “and that book Marth mentioned; you recognise it, don’t you?”

“The Tales of the Creation,” Frederick agreed. “What does my mother’s book have to do with any of this?”   
Robin had acted like he didn’t recognise the book Marth was holding in his hands when it was brought up. Frederick had been unable to contain his raised brow, but nobody had been searching for _his_ reaction.

“I don’t know. That’s why I didn’t say anything.”

“But you read what was inside,” Frederick stated it as an obvious fact.

Robin turned his head suddenly. “Didn’t you?” He asked pointedly.

Frederick scratched his jaw. “I suppose I did; a very long time ago. I couldn’t understand it, though, really, and I don’t remember it containing the events they said it did.”

“Exactly,” Robin agreed, “it wasn’t the same as last I looked at it either. That means either each copy is written differently, or there’s some kind of magic enchantment involved.”

“There was another copy in my mother’s office in Ferox. I brought it with me if you’d like to take a look.”

“Maybe later. It’s good that you both have a copy, though; we can compare them at some point. I just don’t want to present any theories I have to Chrom and Marth before they’re fully-formed.”

“Then try presenting them to _me_.”

“Frederick, I,” Robin bit his lip, troubled.

Frederick reached out his hand and Robin took it. “I am here and I need you to trust me. Anything which we discover can be done together.”

Sighing, Robin played with Fredericks's fingers. Frederick supposed that Robin did not want to meet his eyes. “Those books aren’t a fairytale, I think.”

“I thought that may be where this was heading.” Frederick grimaced at the concept.

“Somehow, they are based on fact - not just of now, but the other timeline. And, that calamity, Frederick…”

“Yes.”

“That calamity is me.”

Frederick’s breath stopped for a moment. A million things to panic about ran through his mind, but were shot down, leaving only the lonely panic in Robin’s eyes, and that was all Frederick could think about. “Okay,” he said.

“Okay?” Robin’s voice cracked; his head falling into his hands. “How is _any_ of this okay?”

“It has to be; doesn’t it? It’s not like it’s happening right now. We have leads. That means we can keep investigating, and make a plan.”

“But, I don’t know anything - I can’t _think_ , Freddy, I’m so scared. Gods, I feel so stupid.”

“You are not stupid. You are so incredibly brave. Who else would go so far as to change their own fate? To save their friends? Robin, you must be the most courageous person I know.”

Robin didn’t look up from his hands. “I can’t believe that, after everything, you still…”

“Still what?”

“Want to be here with me.”  
  
Frederick pursed his lips. “I have my own failures to make up for. Times that I should have been there for you, and I wasn’t. I won’t make the same mistake again.”

Robin looked up for a moment, expressionless, and scanned Frederick’s eyes. “It’s late,” was all he responded.

“...We should get to bed, then. Am I staying with you?”

Robin shook his head. “Goodness, no. Papa would never…”

Frederick raised his eyebrow. Validar was an obstacle in terms of stopping the calamity, but the overbearing power he seemed to hold over his son hadn’t escaped Frederick’s notice. “Your father is yet another issue that bears discussion," he bit his lip and sighed before continuing. "Can we talk tomorrow?”

Robin stood and dusted off his knees. “I will contact you when it is safe. Are you staying for the coronation?”

“I am staying as long as you are staying.”

“Then wait for my signal.”

-

ROBIN

Robin needed to speak with Grima. Urgently. The only issue was, Grima appeared only when he wanted to - and didn't say a damned thing about where he was going and when he was coming back.  
It had been over a week since Robin had last seen him, and even then he had said nothing of value. Trying to get meaningful answers out of him was difficult, to say the least.  
He was the only one, though, who may have access to the answers Robin sought.

It was late enough that most of the castle’s staff would be asleep, which meant the risk of someone seeing him was low if he went to explore. But where would Grima hide? Would he even be in the castle?

That was when he spied a familiar shadow. She stood by the window, her tall silhouette lit up by the moon. "I thought I told you to wait for me," she said coolly, not turning her head to meet his gaze.

"Aversa!" Robin smiled with relief, closing the distance between them. "I need to find-" his voice quietened, but still seemed to echo in the empty halls. "Do you know where Grima is?"

Aversa eyed him dubiously. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"This is important," Robin whined, "seriously, Aversa."

"I said I don't know what you're talking about," she replied in the same monotone, but she gripped his wrist with enough force to bruise. "It's time for bed, Robin."

Robin knew better than to speak up as she led him down the corridor to the bedrooms, and even further, past them. Instead, he focused on quieting the sound of his footsteps.

He tried not to be surprised when they reached the hall with glass walls. There was only one place that would lead, and it had made Robin nervous enough that he had never gone back to explore.

Aversa unlocked the door to the shrine room. The metal key's clanking was all that could be heard for a moment, and some part of Robin hoped the door would never open.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Grima said boredly, biting into an apple as he leant rudely on the shrine table.

" _This_ is your chosen hangout spot?" Robin asked incredulously.

Aversa snorted as she shut them all inside.

Grima shrugged. "Your Shepherds just arrived; it's obvious that you'd want some answers. I made a gamble. I was thinking of waiting in your bedroom, but I knew if you asked Aversa she'd lead you here."

Robin was beginning to understand why people hated him analysing them. "Maybe we should tie a little bell to your neck," Robin pinched his forefinger and thumb together, waggling his hand like he was ringing a bell. "It would make you easier to find."

"You’re on your own if you want to try anything. I don't want to get rabies," Aversa chimed in.

"That's not the way you ask somebody for help," Grima chastised, but he didn't seem offended by it.   
It was strange, Robin thought, the rapport they seemed to share - if anybody spoke to Grima with such familiarity as Aversa did, Robin imagined he really _would_ bite.

"You know the answers I'm looking for," Robin began, looking Grima in the eye as if he were challenging him.

"Do I?" Grima tossed his apple core onto the shrine stand and sauntered up to the tall, chairless table; hoisting himself up so that he could sit, perched.

"Not everything has to be a game, Grima."

"No," Grima agreed, "it doesn't. So why don't _you_ ask me a question at a time and _I'll_ answer one at a time."

Robin considered this. Shapeless questions swirled around his head and refused to form, leaving him with little but confusion.   
It was all he could do to recall his conversation with Frederick. At least that may give him some framework for his questioning.

"You mentioned that I - well, _we_ \- caused the destruction in Ylisse."

"I did."

"I want to fact-check something. Papa took me to this room before, and he told me _that thing_ ," Robin pointed to the painting of the dragon above the shrine stand, "was called Grima. Like, the God." He knew Grima understood where he was going with this. It was just as well; because he wasn't sure he could elaborate.

"It is both exactly what you think it is, and not at all."

"What does that even _mean_?"

"I am; you are, a manifestation of the Fell Dragon, Grima. He is known as a God to the humans of this land. But, it's not - we're not _finished_."

Robin's stomach dropped. "Finished?"

"A human vessel was never meant to hold such energy. A power like Grima is incomprehensible to a person. It bears no reason, and moves as naturally as any other part of nature. Is a human responsible enough to flow and ebb a tide?"

"But - Plegian magic. That comes from Grima, doesn't it?"

Grima’s frown deepened as he considered. "People only think that Grima thanks them for their blessings with power - in reality, they're creating it. It's like a reaction. You put ingredients into a pot, and you come out with a meal; that sort of thing. Grima is the pot in this scenario."

"So, what; I'm a pot?"

Grima tutted. "Don't be stupid. It's a metaphor."

"Then what am I, Grima?"

"To be exact, I don't know."

"Then don't be exact."

Grima jumped off the tall table and began to pace. "I don't know what Validar did to us when we were young. It could even have been before then; during pregnancy, or conception. Probably all of the above. It takes a long time for such a powerful ritual to be prepared. But our power - part of it is fused with dragon power. Grima's power."

"So, what, I'm half dragon-god?" Robin scoffed.

"No, you're a person - raised with the exact frequencies to _channel_ a dragon-god. But that doesn't mean you can control it. When you lose grip on your own emotions, you're at your weakest. And that is when Grima can be channelled. But there's a problem." Grima gestured up and down at Robin. "Grima inherits your body. Your eye colour, your sicknesses, and your emotions." 

Robin's stomach dropped. "...He can't handle human emotion?"

Grima waved his arm dismissively in the air. "I don't know if it's like that, or if being hit with an enormous wave of emotion seemingly out of nowhere somehow messes with its constitution."

Robin paused. A theory had been building up in his head while he'd been busy questioning - he tried hard to remember the words written in the Tales of the Creation that previously he'd wanted to forget.

"The calamity - it was caused by a channelling?"

Grima averted his eyes with discomfort. "In a manner of speaking."

It was probably hard on him to be talking about this in such a matter-of-fact way. The calamity was just an idea to Robin. To Grima, it was a lived reality. 

"Thank you for talking about this. I'm...sorry. It must be difficult."

"Don't say stupid things." Grima scowled at the ground. "Twenty questions is over. I will be back when I feel like it." He had already turned to leave before Robin spoke.

"Do you want to see him?"

Grima span on his heel. "Who?"

"Frederick."

Stare glassy, Grima folded his arms over his middle. "It would be best if I...was only present from a distance."

"You don't have to hold yourself back."

"Don't tell me what I have to do." Robin had never heard such emotion in Grima's voice; it took the edge off of such a biting comment.

"I'm going to bring him here, in a couple of nights. If your visit so happens to coincide, then it does."

Grima left without a response, but Robin felt better for having made the offer. He had no idea if Grima would take it, though.

Aversa tutted, shaking her head. "Self-destructive idiot," she chastised the air, sighing before tilting her head at Robin. “Was that enlightening enough for you?”

“I...think I’m starting to understand.”

“Then don’t antagonise him anymore.”

“Huh? Aversa - no, I wasn’t-”

“I understand that it wasn’t on purpose; if that’s what you’re worried about.” Robin had no response to that. “It’s easy to pretend that he doesn’t have feelings when he’s got your face, isn’t it?”

“Not once have I-”

“If you make him meet with Frederick,” Aversa interrupted again, “remember that he loves him just as much as you do - maybe even more, for having lost him."

“Are you telling me it’s cruel to facilitate their meeting?”

“If it were you in that situation, would you be able to smile and gracefully let go?” Aversa’s eyes pierced him as sharp as her words did. “I said I would help you both because it benefits me. Either way, I get _my_ revenge. But what about you two? It’s going to end in tears for somebody.”

Aversa left him with that, but it was all he needed, really. It was more than a little uncomfortable to think of competing with _himself_ for Frederick's love, but he knew that he needed to give Grima the option to see him anyway.

Some part of him felt ashamed for Grima's devotion and restraint. 

Halfheartedly, Robin desired Frederick - an embarrassing pipe dream for the family he could never have; not really. Frederick was far too good. He was far too _normal_. To have his life ruined, mixed up in Robin's mess, would be a far crueller action than Robin could muster.   
But it was difficult to push him away. His affection; the sweetness of his words like honey caramelising in his ears and rotting his reason.  
Robin would just have to accept that Frederick represented the life he could never have. It had felt so close at one point - that he could reach out and touch it; kiss Frederick and promise away all of the time that didn’t belong to him.

The only thing that mattered now was to stop Validar. For that, Robin needed nothing to hold him back or cause him pause.  
He would host Frederick and the rest of the Shepherds gracefully for the coronation, and after that, let him down easy. It would hurt, but Frederick could get over anything if it risked his devotion to Chrom.

Robin tried not to let that make his heart ache.  
  


CHROM

The Shepherds had been assigned several small, clean bedrooms for their stay, housing up to three people per room. Sully and Cordelia had claimed a room of their own, being the only couple present as visitors. The rest of them were left to decide amongst themselves where they would be sleeping, and Chrom had little time to waste before someone who snored called dibs on sharing with him.

“Marth, Libra, would you mind rooming with me tonight? I have a couple more things left to discuss with you.”

Libra looked at Chrom knowingly. His wise eyes were tired, but alert as always. "I think that would be a good idea."

Marth didn't say anything, but he nodded, stepping past Chrom to push the door open.  
As Marth passed, Chrom ruffled his hair - an action which he hadn't taken much stock into until he felt Marth stiffen under him. It was only for a breath, but long enough to make Chrom regret his actions.  
The regret only lasted a moment, though. As long as it took for Marth to turn and smile at Chrom. It wasn't a wide smile, but it was a genuine one.

Since their discussion that evening, everyone knew that Marth was Chrom's child. It was something they had agreed to be open about, but that meant small actions definitely didn't go amiss among the Shepherds, and Chrom batted the air at their cooing as if he could shoo away the sound waves.

"Goodnight, everyone," he breezily bid them, holding the door open for Libra before he shut it behind them.

The rooms were dressed mostly in pale white, with colourful tapestries on the walls and floors as accents. The castle was a stark contrast to the city's colourful glow; its minimalism somehow leaving Chrom unable to fully relax.  
A cool wind blew in from the sole window in the room, sifting through the net curtains with a gentle caress.  
Marth set about lighting lanterns in the room while Libra began to rummage through his bag.

"Sorry to bring you in for another discussion before bed. I know that you are both tired."

"It is quite all right, Milord. We are all here for a purpose, after all."

Chrom sat down on one of the beds, clasping his hands between his knees. "Thank you, Libra." He waited until Marth settled himself, cross-legged, on the only unclaimed bed, before he began. "I'm sure you both didn't neglect to notice something glaringly missing from our discussion with Robin this evening."

Libra sighed, but Marth stared blankly in Chrom's direction. "Pardon my mistake, but I feel like I'm missing something here," he replied.

"The book we found in the secret room. I also found a copy in Robin's room, remember?"

"Oh," Marth commented, scratching his head. "Oh, wait, _oh_. He told us he didn't know anything about it, didn't he?"

"I wonder why he would lie to us." Libra sounded perplexed as he was frustrated. "We are his allies, after all. Well, perhaps - perhaps if I had listened to him better. He tried to open up to me once, some months ago, about some things that appear to be having ramifications presently. And I...shot down his concerns."

"It's all right, Libra," Chrom soothed, "I haven't been the most understanding to him lately, either. But I don't think that's why he lied."

"Then why? I know you're not going to say what I'm thinking," Marth chimed in.

"No," Chrom agreed, "I'm not. I think he's not telling us because he's not fully figured it out yet."

Libra raised an eyebrow. "Once again, we are his _allies_."

"And, after everything, he still can't stand to lose a logic battle. If he hasn't got a clue what’s going on, you're not going to hear a peep, because his natural instinct is not to give you any advantages - even to his detriment."

There was silence for a moment. Everyone in the room was pensive, seemingly dwelling on that thought, until Marth let out a snort. It broke a dam between them; even Libra managed to laugh about it a little bit.

"I think you might be right, Milord. But more than that, I think he may also be trying to protect us."

"Oh yes, doubtless he has a plan of his own. Not that I plan to let him do this by himself."

"Nor I," Libra agreed.

"He's a difficult person, isn't he?" Marth mused. "But he cares for Frederick very much. And for you, Chrom. That much...is obvious."

Chrom couldn't help but smile. "He's really thoughtful, in his own way. He'd never say it aloud, but he'd risk everything for each and every one of us, and I love him for it."

-

AUGUST 1ST

FREDERICK

Being a royal guest at Plegia Castle, just days after Frederick had finished his sentence in Ferox, was decidedly boring.  
He found himself counting down the hours to mundane activities like sleeping and eating - especially eating, because he could at least see Robin in those moments. Even then, their little chats were under the watchful eye of Validar. 

It was usually easy enough to defer respect to leaders. Frederick, though, found it much harder to do so with Validar. In fact, they hadn't said much more than a word to one another. Until Frederick had sorted through the mess of emotions and thoughts he had about this predicament, he was content to pretend that Validar did not exist. 

The only difficulty in that was knowing he couldn't touch Robin.   
His heart ached and battled with his patience. He knew that he had to follow Robin's plan and wait until the perfect time to topple Validar's reign, but it was easier said than done, and they couldn't exactly make a schedule of attack.  
Robin had told Frederick to wait for his word. He'd heard nothing all of yesterday; not that it was particularly surprising, but it did nothing to soothe his anxiety.

Dinner was, once again, an awkward event.  
The meal was meat-free, and the colourful, sweet vegetables danced a welcoming song on Frederick's taste buds.  
Robin's hair seemed to have grown another inch. Frederick tried to busy himself with his meal instead of staring.  
Chrom made a joke, and Robin's laugh made him seem so carefree.

“-And then I _somehow_ managed to shatter the glass in my hands. Ridiculous; isn’t it? It just _fell apart_. And the two Lords said, ‘Chrom, you really do make a different impression than your sister.’”

“You get that reaction everywhere you go!”

Their animated discussion was cut short by Validar’s interjection. “Lord Chrom, I had been meaning to pick your brain about Lady Emmeryn - that and your Exaltship. It appears we have much in common."

At once, Chrom stiffened. "Any discussions you may want to have about ruling a country, I am more than open to having. However….Emmeryn is a sensitive subject, still. I understand that many people wish to know about her. But, considering the manner in which she passed, I am going to have to ask that you excuse my rudeness until such a time as I am ready to talk."

Validar's hand halted as it went to reach for his glass. "My apologies, Chrom. It was difficult for me to hear that she passed, but it must have been far more challenging for you."

Chrom smiled, but his teeth were bared so far it seemed like a grimace, or a threat. "You speak as if you knew her."

"Oh, she didn't tell you?" Validar was surprised, on the surface, but it wasn't hard to tell that he was faking it. "I considered Emmeryn a very close friend of mine."

The room was silent enough to hear a pin drop. Nobody dared scrape their plate, or chance lifting a glass lest it clink against their fingertips.

"Papa, you spent time in Ylisse?" Robin dropped in, casting a concerned glance at Chrom, who was gripping his fork like a weapon.

"When I was looking for you; of course I did. But I met Emmeryn long before then. Her father was keen on establishing ties with Plegia around the time that you were born.”

“I never heard anything of the sort,” Chrom interjected, unable to hide his anger.

Validar smiled politely. “That’s probably because it failed. Your father wasn’t able to form a positive relationship with any of the Lords at the time, but Emmeryn made quite the impression on our house.”

“She couldn’t have been that old at the time, surely.”

“Oh, no, but so polite for her age! She was both charming and incredibly wise for her years.”

A crash at the other end of the table indicated Chrom shoving his chair backwards. “You are going to have to excuse me,” he said stiffly, and walked out of the room, leaving an awkward silence in his wake.

“Oh dear,” Validar finally spoke, “it appears I’ve gone too far. I should go after him.”

“Papa, I think you should-”

“I should…?” Validar raised an eyebrow at Robin, which was enough to make him close his mouth, and stare down at his plate with obvious frustration. Validar looked back up at his guests. “Please, finish your meals. I shall see you all tomorrow.”

As soon as Validar left, Frederick stole Chrom’s abandoned seat next to Robin. “Are you all right?”

“You should go after Chrom,” Robin said stiffly, eyes still on his food, but his hands were firm at his sides.

“He is a grown man.”

“As am I.”

Frederick sighed. He didn’t much feel like arguing in front of the Shepherds, who were silent as the dead, carefully withdrawing their eyes from the conversation they were all listening intently to. “Come for a walk with me.”

“Papa said we should eat…”

“Robin.”

Robin looked up to meet Frederick’s gaze, and Frederick was shocked by what he found there. He had never seen Robin look so small; so _trapped_ by his own circumstances. It was horrifying in a way that sent shivers down his spine. Robin looked so defeated by a simple word from his father. Was there really any hope?  
Frederick couldn’t give up. Even when the odds seemed impossible, Robin brought everyone around him together and saved the day. He needed someone to save him, too.

He laid his hand open on the table in the gap between the plates. It took Robin a moment, but he finally laced their fingers together.

Frederick gently pulled Robin up with that hand and led him out the door.

-

Robin kept ahold of Frederick’s hand as they wandered down the corridors, but still seemed incredibly nervous, as if his father would come barreling around the corner at any moment.

“Where are we going?” He asked, looking out one of the large windows as if there was something he was straining to see.

“We need to talk privately. You could come to my room, but I have to share with Stahl and Ricken, so there’s no guarantee that we will not be disturbed.”

Robin shook his head. “We can’t be seen going to a bedroom together. It’s too risky.”

“Robin, why is it that your father can’t know that I’m yours? Is this that integral to your p-”

Shushing him with alarm, Robin met Frederick’s gaze ferociously. “Just follow me, okay?”

-

The rest of the journey was taken in silence, but they were hardly sneaky in the way they nearly ran down the corridors. Most of the staff were nowhere to be seen, anyway.

Robin led them past the bedrooms, down where Frederick had never been before, mostly because the hallways were so winding it was misleading. The decor changed from eggshell walls to misty glass; backed by such thick fauna one couldn’t see outside.  
At the end of the glass hall was a big, brown door, and Robin, procuring a heavy-looking key from his pocket, pushed them both inside quickly before nearly slamming it shut.

He sighed, staring at the door as he caught his breath.

“Is it safe to talk now?” Frederick was beginning to become irritated with all the sneaking around.

“As safe as we can be.” Robin turned and held out both of his hands. “I’m sorry.”

Taking advantage of his open arms, Frederick pulled them into a tight embrace. “I don’t want to have to hide this. Robin, I will keep any plan you need secret, but I cannot be discrete in my feelings for you.”

“I’m so afraid of him knowing; Frederick. He will use anything he knows against me. _Anything._ ”

Frederick stiffened. “You don’t need to be afraid of me getting hurt, Robin. I can take care of myself.”

“You have no idea what he’s capable of.”

“Neither do you,” Frederick reminded.

“That’s not comforting.”

“It is simply a fact. I will not waste my energy sneaking around you any longer. _You_ cannot afford to cower away from him anymore.

  
“And what about Chrom?”

Something about the mention of their friend irritated him. “What does he have to do with any of this?”

“If you get hurt, then who will be there to protect him?”  
  
Frederick hid his scowl behind Robin’s back. “The rest of the Shepherds, ideally.”

“Don’t be smart with me. You know that nobody is as adept as you are.”

“Lord Chrom is just as adept, if not more. He is not some feeble _princeling_ ,” Frederick spat, “who needs constant coddling.”

Robin’s grip on Frederick loosened, and they pulled back just enough to face each other. Frederick was angry, but not enough to lose the chance to touch his lover.

“I don’t understand,” Robin admitted, “I’ve never heard you talk like this before.”

“I want you to know exactly where my allegiance lies.”

“What, to Plegia?” Robin scoffed.

“If that is where you are; then yes.”

At once, Robin left the embrace, and shambled over to the far end of the room. Frederick followed him down to where potted plants were nestling, where the back seemed to have been converted into a greenhouse of sorts.

“You should think this over,” Robin sighed, squatting next to a short, wide palm.

“I already have.”

“Once again, then.”

“So, what,” Frederick blustered, his hands moving with his words as if Robin was looking at him, “are you suggesting we end our relationship over _Chrom_ ?”  
Robin didn’t answer. Frederick felt his breath catch in the base of his throat. “Robin. Answer me.”

“You know I don’t want to let you go. I always wanted,” Robin stood, swivelling on his heel as he began to pace. “Forever,” he folded his arms over his head. “I wanted you. I _still_ want you. But this is bigger than I ever thought it would be.”

Frederick crossed his arms. “For as long as you still want me, I will not let you go. Not until you kick me out of this castle with your own hands and feet.”

“Please don’t make this harder than it has to be, Frederick.”

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” Frederick seethed, “don’t you make this about me. This is about your ridiculous hero complex. You’ve always had it - right from the beginning; thinking that you can save _everybody_ but shield us from your own problems. This might be news to you, Robin, but you let me into your life, and I am _not_ fooled. There is no way that I will allow you to sacrifice yourself in some vain attempt to take care of me.” Frederick closed the distance between them. “Do you know why, Robin? It is because I love you.”

Robin reached up to cup Frederick’s cheek in his hand. He tilted his head, and glassy eyes blinked back tears. “I feel so selfish, asking you to stay,” he whispered.

“You don’t have to ask for anything. I am not budging, whether you like it or not.”

Robin let out a laugh that was close to a sob. “I don’t think you realise it, but you are always saving me, Frederick.”

Frederick took the hand on his cheek to his mouth and kissed it. “Someone has to.”

“Would you stay with me for today? It’ll be just us for a while, but there’s somebody I’d like you to meet.”

  
-  
  


CHROM

Chrom saw red as he rounded the corridor on his way out of the dining hall. He hoped to find an exit, but he was so consumed by the churning in his brain that he could have been walking in any direction in this damned castle.

It wasn’t enough to cover, however, the sense that he was being followed. He knew it too well.   
Finally, he found his way to the front door and pushed his way into the dusty sands until he was far enough away that there was nowhere to hide.

“I thought I made it clear that I needed some alone time, King Validar.”

Validar kept a careful few feet away, smiling pleasantly in a way that made Chrom’s blood boil. “I cannot very well leave you in such a destructive mood. I ought, at least, to explain myself.”

“Well, I am not in a position to hear anything of the sort right now. You know yourself how _destructive_ I am.”

“How about sparring to release the tension, then?”

Chrom’s fingers found the Falchion, smoothing gently along the ridges in the hilt. Its presence calmed him, but the thought of slicing Validar’s head clean off his shoulders was far more effective. “All right. I accept.”

-

They found themselves in a large atrium somewhere farther to the back of the castle than Chrom had ever been. It was cylindrical; a wide, mosaic path laid berth in the centre for a fountain whose water feature came down in gentle drips from the ceiling above. The walls were also in brown and tan mosaic and stone; casting images of great warriors battling.

At the opposite end of the room to the door, there was a shiny, iron weapons stand showcasing a small, but impressive variety of well-kept arms. “I would ask you if you’d like to pick a weapon,” Validar began, “but I think you have already chosen.”

“I’ll keep my sword, thanks.”

“Very well,” Validar brought out a short mace, testing its weight with a swing.

“I thought you might be using magic.”

Validar gave Chrom a small smile. “I usually do. But you want something to hit; don’t you?”

Chrom looked Validar up and down. “You’re not wrong.”

-

The Falchion handled the battle marvellously, considering the disadvantage it was at. Chrom swung away at the hilt of Validar's mace; claiming strategy, but if he happened to damage Validar irreparably, it could be made to look like an accident.  
The mace’s chain was too short to fully clutch the Falchion and pull it from Chrom’s desperate fingers. 

Validar proved a small challenge, though; slipping in and out of Chrom's reach much as Robin was want to do when they sparred.  
Chrom was clearly the more experienced of the two, though, and took Validar down without breaking a sweat. Focusing his attention solely on fighting, though, had certainly cooled him down. Instead of plunging his sword somewhere it would hurt where he knelt, he held a hand out to Validar.

"I am not as young as I used to be," Validar commented with humour, letting Chrom support his weight. "You are just as capable as Aversa told me; if not more."

"Thank you, Lord Validar." 

The words came out easier than Chrom expected them to; having a lifetime of kissing up to smarmy Lords.  
However, Chrom couldn't help feeling poison swell and burst in his mouth at the kindness he was showing. It felt like betraying both Robin and Emmeryn. Even though his loyalty to them was unwavering, he felt as though being merciful to Validar was one of the most dishonest acts he had ever committed.

Being Exalt was so limiting in that way. Perhaps, though, it was just behaving like an adult.   
Had Emmeryn lived, he may never have learned it. But she always seemed so honest in both her words and actions. It always looked so easy.  
Maybe that's why Chrom admired her so - more adult-like than any; she towered over those even twice her years.  
Now, he wondered if she struggled. If she ever felt so dishonest to her own intentions; had to grin and bear situations that she had little control over. Maybe Chrom had only seen her best sides. Maybe Chrom had chosen not to see anything else.

"What do you know of Emmeryn?" The words stumbled clumsily from his swollen tongue. 

"I know that she was the kindest person who ever graced me with her time," Validar set his mace back on the iron stand and readjusted his cloak. "At first, I was determined to understand her true motivations; see where that act faded. But, it didn't."

Chrom couldn't hide his bitter laugh. "So, you tried to draw the evil out of her?"

Validar had the humanity to flinch at that. "Not exactly. Might I...take you somewhere?"

"Where exactly do you plan to take me?"

"It's a laboratory. Your sister spent a large portion of her time there. It might answer some of your questions."

Chrom wasn't sure if he was ready, but got the feeling he might not have the chance to see it again if he refused. "Very well."

Validar led Chrom out of the atrium, and down another blank corridor. Just as it was beginning to get awkward, he spoke.  
"You have to know how intent Emmeryn was on unifying our nations. She believed it her purpose, both as a princess and a leader, that she open up new opportunities available to her people. I don't know what she hoped. Perhaps that it would bring prosperity. In the end, her death did more to unify us than anything she did in life. Isn’t that ironic?"

Chrom bristled once again, reminded that he still had the Falchion on his person. "Are you trying to rile me up on purpose?"

“No; just musing.”

“I’d appreciate it if you refrained from musing in my presence,” Chrom replied, annoyed.  
Validar gave Chrom a sharp look; one that he had seen directed at Robin before. Usually after Validar disproved of something he’d said, it was enough to make Robin quake in his boots. It didn’t scare Chrom one bit, though.  
“I am not your son, King Validar. You can stop waiting for an apology.”

Validar’s eyes wandered away from Chrom’s face, displeasure set in his mouth. “Young people of today have little respect for those older than them.”

“You’ll have to forgive me for not being raised as well as your own.”

“There comes a point in life when one must stop blaming their parentage for their shortcomings, and begin to take responsibility.”

Chrom quickly realised he would have nothing pleasant to say to Validar, and chose to remain silent. He never had been skilled in the art of talking to his elders.

Chrom’s father had been negligent enough when he was alive, and once he passed, Emmeryn had to split her time between caring for her siblings and her newly inherited land. Those older people around him were, more often than not, Emmeryn’s advisers. Needless to say, it was a poor introduction to the world of adults.

Validar led Chrom downstairs, into the bowels of the castle, past stockrooms which seemed to have been long in disuse.  
Finally, they reached an archway that seemed more like someone had blown a hole in the wall than a planned entrance in the castle’s blueprints. It was dark enough that all Chrom could make out was where the blackness shifted to a darker shade.

Validar procured a small, round pebble from his pocket, scratching at it like he was trying to make fire. It lit up in a fierce, bright blue ball. “If you do not want to get lost, you will follow me closely.”

Chrom felt like he was heading into danger, but he couldn’t stop now. The answers to all of his questions depended on it.

Validar did not stop to check that he was being followed, venturing into the hole with the confidence of someone who had done this many times before.   
Chrom couldn’t see the light reflecting against any walls, which meant the corridor they were going down was at least a few metres wide. They were just venturing straight ahead, though, and it didn’t take them long before they found their destination.

It was a small, brown door, not even locked by a padlock. Chrom supposed that nobody would have thought to venture this far. He wondered what Emmeryn was thinking when she walked down this corridor.

He was surprised to find the room beyond the door lit. Comforting yellow swallowed Chrom and he followed its embrace indoors, before nearly smacking into Validar’s back.

“Before we begin, this is important. Do you recognise this room?” 

Chrom sidestepped Validar and assessed the situation. The room was tiny, and what space it did hold was mostly taken up by furniture. Two desks; one against the eastern wall, and one in the centre of the room. A bookshelf shoved under a sloping ceiling. A lab kit; beside it, old and new herbs set in neat rows.

“This is...the room in Ylisstol Castle. The same one that leads out of the Exalt’s chambers. But...how...?”

Validar nodded as if confirming something. “I thought it might have been you that entered. Those Feroxi are far too superstitious to even dream of it.”

“What are you talking about?”

Validar waved his hand dismissively. “There will be time for that later. For now, you need to understand how this room works.”

“It’s a duplicate, right?”

“Not quite,” Validar corrected, wandering over to the lab table on the eastern wall. He picked up the herbs and presented them to Chrom. “Did you leave these here; back in Ylisstol Castle?”

Chrom studied them. He remembered a comment he’d made about Lissa experimenting in the room. “No. They were there when I got there.”

“Who else knows about the room?”

“More people than I’d like. Are you getting at what I think you’re getting at?”

“Regardless of the entrance, this room exists as the same space both in Ylisstol and in Plegia. Anything left in here can be accessed by either of us, and if I were to enter at the same time as you from the different nations, we could meet, talk, or even touch.”

Chrom held his head; feeling the initial pounding of a headache coming on. He ignored the clawing curiosity in favour of an uncharacteristic caution. “Why are you telling me this?”

Validar smiled. “Why do _you_ think that I am telling you this?”

“You want something from me. What is it?”

“I want you to finish what Emmeryn couldn’t.”

-

FREDERICK

From the glass half of the room, it was easy to tell that evening was setting in.  
Orange sunlight snaked around the fauna, casting tiny slithers shape jagged by the lines of those plants it passed.

Robin was shadowed; shielded from the light as he lay in Frederick's lap. Frederick held fast to one of Robin's hands. Touching him was like drinking water after a drought - he didn't know when it would be taken away from him again.

Robin hadn't exactly refused Frederick's plea to go public about their relationship, but he still seemed troubled, so Frederick had let it sit while they talked about nothing important. Perhaps it would remind Robin of simpler times.

"There are a couple of meals I learned how to make in Ferox. Things I vaguely remember my mother making for me - this soup; Gods, it feels like coming home from the bakery Ma owned and seeing dinner on the table. I have no idea if you'd like it - somehow I feel like it's only the type of thing you'd like if you grew up eating it - but I'd like to make it for you anyway."

"I want to try it," Robin smiled warmly, eyes crinkling with affection, "I'll try anything you make for me."

"I'm glad I could get something out of the experience. It was so hard to leave you that morning that I almost missed the trip," Frederick recalled his nervousness. A part of him still wished he'd stayed, so that he could have been with Robin through all of the things he'd had to suffer alone.

"I'm glad you went," Robin responded, "they really rubbed off on you. I've never seen you stand so tall. You have a lot more confidence in your conviction, you know."

"You aren't the first to comment on it. I don't feel any different. But I have a greater idea of the man I want to be, now."

"Who do you want to be?"

Frederick pursed his lips. It was easier to put into action than it was into words. "Someone as loving as the people around me. A person who is loyal for the sake of that love, rather than just to be needed."

Robin used his free hand to trace Frederick’s lip with his thumb. "Is that the difference between me and your retained?"

Frederick kissed the pad of Robin's thumb, skimming his nose down to his wrist, and kissing there as well. He clutched Robin’s arm close against his face in a mock embrace.   
"That would be assuming that they need me."

"They do need you," Robin chastised.

"We all need friends. But they have long-since outgrown the need of a bodyguard. I, however, need _you_."

Robin rolled his eyes. "Oh, you need me, do you?"

"I shall surely starve without the affection of your kisses, and such loving words which may leave your mouth."

"How romantic. And dramatic."

Frederick felt a playful smile form on his lips. "It's not dramatic. In fact, I feel dizzy from malnourishment in this present moment."

"Hmm?" Robin sat up a little, using Frederick's shoulder as leverage. "I suppose I shall have to save you, then."

It was the first time they had kissed since the night of the ball. Truth be told, Frederick hadn't actually felt dizzy up until this moment, but Robin's mouth worked Frederick’s nerves until they were a tangled thing; lingering hot in his mouth and his gut such that everywhere else felt cold.  
Frederick kissed back feverishly, pulling Robin up to bring them closer. He felt the angle of Robin's waist and gripped it as he cradled the back of Robin's head.

Robin could say whatever words about giving up that he liked, but he gripped Frederick’s jaw with iron fingers and tugged at his lips like he couldn't stand the thought of them being even an inch apart.   
Having Robin crave his touch so openly only confirmed his dedication.   
Robin sighed and shivered as Frederick kissed his neck. Gently, Frederick explored under Robin's ear, kissing all the way down to where his throat dipped. Robin's fingers dug into Frederick’s shoulders sturdily, but he still squirmed under Frederick’s touch. 

"I love you," Frederick said into the base of Robin's jaw. 

Robin sighed contentedly and pulled Frederick back up to kiss him on the mouth. "You make me feel so safe."

"I am glad of that."

"Can I talk to you about something?"

"Anything."

"This person I want you to meet. I still have no idea if they'll arrive, but it might...shock you."

"That was a worrying sentence," Frederick fought the urge to chew on the inside of his cheek before he responded. "What about this is so shocking?"

"The real reason why I left Ferox so quickly is because of this person. They're the same as Marth - from the future timeline."

Frederick squinted; a bad feeling swirling around in his stomach. "Marth didn't say anything about that."

"I don't think Marth even knows."

"Are you going to introduce them? It might be worth it to piece together some answers."

Robin shook his head quickly. "I think that would create more problems than it would solutions. The person who I met is the version of me from that timeline."

Frederick sucked in a slow, steady breath, feeling his heartbeat quicken sickeningly. "You said that you caused the calamity. Surely he would know the truth."

Robin looked away uncomfortably. "He was vague on the details. Even he doesn't understand it fully - but I think it's also too painful for him to talk about."

"So he came here...to this world... _alone_?"

Robin knew what he was asking. "His Frederick didn't survive the calamity."

"...Ah.” Frederick didn’t know how to respond. He couldn’t easily conceptualise the death of himself from another universe, needless to say.

“I...understand if that changes the way you see my involvement in the calamity.”

“It doesn’t.”

Robin smacked the ground with frustration. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why aren’t you frustrated? You’re not even a _little_ worried about this?” Robin fixed his stare at the ground, pouting like a child.

“I don’t feel like I know enough about the situation to be worried about it,” Frederick admitted, “what do you want me to do? Shame you for events even you have yet to comprehend your own involvement in?”

Robin shoved Frederick’s chest without any real force. “I want you to get mad at me at least a little.”

“Because you feel mad at yourself?”

“In a way. Here you are trying to protect me even though I might destroy you.”

“We don’t know that yet.”

“Would you like some answers?” 

Echoing footsteps drew Frederick's eyes to the other end of the room. Hard-soled slippers clacked against stone. Cotton-chinoed legs walked leisurely, showing off brown ankles. A white shirt of the same material was cloaked by two long streaks of hair - the rest of which was tied in a high ponytail, lest it dragged along the floor.

And, that face.

"Ah, Frederick, this is -"

"Robin," Frederick sighed, looking at the stranger. 

There were obvious differences in the appearances of the two Robins. The most glaring difference was, of course, their hair. The Robin Frederick knew had grown hair all the way down to the end of his shoulder blades.  
But, this new Robin was definitely older. Not just in the way that tiredness had shaped his face, but he looked to be at least twenty-five, if not older still.   
The stranger's muscles filled out his shirt a bit more - his shoulders just a little wider than Robin's. It gave his gait grace.

"He prefers to be called Grima," Robin replied, "it stops things from being so confusing."

Frederick separated himself from Robin’s embrace to stand and greet the stranger.

He held out his hand. Grima paused mid-step, as if touching Frederick hadn't occurred to him. Frederick pulled his hand down awkwardly. Grima stayed a few feet away from them.

"It is good to know you, Grima. I am grateful for your sacrifice in coming here."

Grima laughed dryly. "There was no choice to be made about it, really. Ylisse, and vast quantities of the land around it were destroyed."

Frederick sucked in a breath. He hadn't wanted to think about the aftermath of the calamity, and the thought of Ylisse being totally obliterated hit him like a ton of bricks. "It must be comforting to see everything back the way it was."

Grima raised his eyebrows, his stare blank. "Those who have died are still dead," he shrugged, blasé, and twirled his finger around a strand of hair as he thought. "I have only come to answer some questions; I want to make that very clear. But I have one demand. I will only speak with Frederick."

"Anything you can say in front of Frederick, you can say in front of me. He would end up telling me anyway," Robin argued.

Grima shrugged. "I don't care what you know. I just don't want to deal with your childish reactions. I am not a babysitter."

“It’s all right, Robin;” Frederick assured. “You should talk with your father.”

It was clear as day that Grima had been through a world of hurt past his lover’s death. It made him a stranger. There was so much Frederick didn’t know about his suffering, and within that, perhaps some answers about how the current Robin was feeling. There was little guilt - in some ways he felt like he was planning to use Grima to his own benefit, but perhaps he would find his own comfort from it.

“All right.” Robin put his arms around Frederick one last time. “If you need anything, wait at my door.”

“I will.”

As soon as Robin left the room, an awkward silence filled the room.  
Grima stared at the ground, his mouth turned in displeasure.

“You can come closer to me, if you want,” Frederick gestured at the space between their feet. 

“I’m fine here.”

“Very well.” The silence continued. “Should I...just start asking things, then?”

Grima flipped his hair and levelled eyes with Frederick. “If you’d like.”

\- 

ROBIN

It was later than Robin had expected when he left the shrine room. It had been some hours since Chrom had stormed out of the dining hall, and Robin should probably catch up with him, but his first priority was to speak with his father.  
He hoped it was late enough that Validar had returned to his quarters.

It was nerve-wracking enough to make the journey. Validar scared the living daylights out of Robin anyway, but he still felt that he owed his father an explanation if he was to be spending more quality time with Frederick.   
Plegia Castle did not keep secrets as well as Ylisstol did. The number of people who worked there meant that there was almost always somebody around the corner; listening for anything that could break the monotony of daily life with gossip. Anything Robin engaged in without adequate caution would usually be fed back to Validar and thrown at him; usually at the dinner table. 

Thus, if Robin wanted to engage in anything gossip-worthy, he would either have to include Validar in his plan, or not get caught. The latter was far easier said than done.

Robin knocked at the large, white door. There was silence for a long enough time that Robin sighed with relief, and turned to leave, when the unmistakable creak of the door opening stopped him in his tracks.

“Ah, Robin. Is there something I can do for you?”

“Papa, good evening,” Robin greeted, “I’m sorry for disturbing you while you’re so busy. I was wondering if we could talk about something.”

“What kind of father would I be if I didn’t have the time for my own son? Step inside.” Validar held the door open for Robin to enter. 

The room was cool, and smelled faintly of incense. Robin waited for Validar to close the door and sit on the bed before seating himself on the floor rug.

“What is it that I can do for you?” Validar clasped his hands together, giving Robin his full attention.

All words died in Robin’s mouth, turning to cotton stuffing as he considered. He licked his bottom lip. “I have been focusing a lot on my life here, in Plegia. Learning how to adjust my conduct in a manner that is more suited to being a prince, and your son.”

Validar raised his eyebrows. “Yes, well,” he bumbled, “I appreciate the effort on your part.”

“Thank you. And I don’t expect anything in return for that, but I would like, _in general,_ just some understanding of the fact that I had a life before this. A different role, and cultural environment.”

“As much as I appreciate the introduction, I’d thank you to get to the point, Robin.”

“Right, right; sorry. You know Sir Frederick; Exalt Chrom’s knight? He and I, well, we are in a relationship.”

Validar looked away awkwardly. “That is...nice.”

“So, are we...okay? No problems?” Robin’s voice hiked up a pitch as he tried to feel out this awkward situation.

“Are you asking if I have an issue with you seeing somebody?”

“Yes.”

Validar’s nose crinkled with disgust. “It is of little consequence to me who you choose to accompany you, so long as they wish you no harm. Have as many lovers as you’d like, for all I care.”

“Great!” Robin slapped his legs, ready to unseat himself and get out of the room as fast as possible.

“Just know that in the grand scheme of things, they are inconsequential.”

“Huh?”

“Do you think that it is right for royalty of Plegia to be seen seriously consorting with common folk? Especially those of other nations, I mean, come now, Robin, we wouldn’t want rumours of you considering _treason._ ”

“Papa...I’m afraid I can’t abide by that.”

“Pardon?”

Robin’s pulse quickened. He rubbed his hands together nervously. “I mean that Frederick and I are already serious. I may even marry him. It doesn’t matter to me what people say about my allegiance - I’ve been through that kind of suspicion already.”

Validar laughed. “I understand that he is your first love. But you cannot marry him without my consent, and I will never give it. This decision does not solely affect you.”

“If you don’t let me marry him in Plegia, then I will marry him in Ylisse.”

Standing to his full height, Validar towered over Robin. “If I have to lock you away until such a time as you are ready to behave like a prince, then I will. I refuse to tolerate your defiant nature toppling everything I have built once again. I put you into this world, Robin, and you will do as I tell you.”

Memories of his mother he had been pretending not to notice flooded back. Something about Validar redirecting his paranoia about losing power from his mother’s actions to Robin’s own, was as laughable as it was rage-inducing.

His legs felt wobbly as he stood, but he raised his chin high anyway. “Let me tell you something, King Validar. However much power you think I have to ruin your standing - I _promise_ you, I have far, far more than that. And there are much worse things I can do to you than marry the man I love. Now everybody knows that your son has returned. Are you going to lock me up again? You can do whatever you’d like, because the Shepherds will find me anyway - no matter how far I go. Their journey here should have proven that. It would be within your interest to cooperate with me.”

Validar’s blank expression turned cruel with the shift of mood. Robin’s body seized as if it were bracing for an attack. “I was expecting your mother’s temper to start showing sooner rather than later. Let me tell _you_ something; little amnesiac. If you remember your childhood so well by now, then we can afford to skip the pleasantries. You may think you have the upper hand. Don’t. I am always two - no, three, steps ahead of you. Where your mind is great, mine is greater. Where you plan out your small victories, I will wage war on everything that you hold dear.”

Robin’s nostrils flared, his hands balled in tight fists at his sides. “Talking like a storybook villain isn’t going to get you anywhere with me. I have been patient enough. This is the point where I draw the line, Papa, and if you cross it, you’ll just have to be prepared for the consequences.”

He wouldn’t wait for a response. Flying out the door, he left it wide open, retiring to his own room until he could next see Frederick.

-

FREDERICK

“It’s not your fault.”

Grima sighed, crossing his arms where he sat on the floor against a tall, stone table. “Don’t.”

“Don’t start this with me, Ro-Grima - I will not have you play the martyr about a disaster you did not control. If anything, you are a victim here.”

“If it were that easy a mistake to make, it would have happened before. There’s nothing like it in any history book. I let Grima have a taste of my anger; the bloodlust that was already within me. Do you understand, yet, Frederick?”

“I understand that you’re a human being with feelings. I understand that you’re scared. But, I am not leaving Plegia.”

“It is the only way. Robin can never love another person - it’s too dangerous. He needs to stay here and hone his discipline - and we need to burn any book that mentions channelling Grima at all.”

“Surely if he learns to control Grima anyway - if I don’t die tragically, then everything will be fine.”

“Controlling Grima is easier said than done. I don’t have mastery over it myself - the only barrier between his influence and my body is,” Grima knocked on his chest with a fist, “the fact that I haven’t felt any emotions since the calamity.”

“Firstly, I don’t believe that. Secondly, you missed out on the part of the plan where I do not die tragically. I mean, I died in Ylisse, did I not? Surely if I am not in Ylisse, my cause of death is out of the way.”

Grima gave Frederick a withering look. “You are about,” he pretended to count on his fingers, “six times as likely to die here than if you are in Ylisse. At least I know what it is that could harm you, there. I can protect you.”

“So that’s what this is about.”

“If you are about to suggest I not ‘play the hero’ one more time, I may have to finish you off myself.”

“You know what it is that I am going to say, so give me your rebuttal.”

“I don’t have to, and I don’t want to. _Go home,_ Frederick.”

“I refuse.”

“Do you think I enjoyed watching you die? Do you think that I was pleased to wake up from my own _temper tantrum_ to find everybody I’d ever known dead?”

“It’s only marginally better than shutting everybody out and living miserably, alone, under your father’s rule.”

“At least you have a future, that way.”

“My future is with the man I love. I will not have it taken from me because of what _might_ be.”

Grima scoffed. “You really don’t understand what is at stake, do you? If I can’t convince you to go, then I will convince Robin to _make_ you.”

Frederick rolled his eyes, anticipating this line of attack. “You already know you can't convince Robin.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You were desperate enough to come to me, although the chances of me agreeing were slim. Robin is clearly the easier choice. But there’s something you’re hiding from him.”

“I have nothing to hide from him.”

“If I guess what that is, will you tell me for certain?”

“I already told you I have nothing to hide,” Grima growled, but he stared daggers at Frederick, his hands gripping his knees with force.

Frederick delivered another blow. “It’s the cause of my death; isn’t it?”

“Stop it.”

“There’s no reason to be so secretive about it. You want him to keep believing that _he_ will kill me, so that he leaves me, because the real truth behind my death will make him want to stay by my side.”

“He doesn’t understand how dangerous he is. He is too fixated on his own loneliness.”

“You don’t seem to enjoy being lonely, either.”

“Well, I’ve had twelve years of practice,” Grima sneered.

Frederick blanched. “Twelve years? W-how old are you?”

Grima shrugged. “Older than you thought I was.”

“Did it take you that long to make the portal?”

“I didn’t make the portal. I don’t have that kind of power.”

“Then who did?”

Grima shook his head. “Yet another mystery.” He bit his lip, looking both thoughtless and troubled away at the wall.

Frederick hesitated. He took a step towards Grima, who didn’t blink, so Frederick walked closer.

“What are you doing?” Grima asked.

“Sitting with you,” Frederick responded, lowering himself to a cross-legged position a foot away from Grima. He held out his hand.

“You shouldn’t do that.”

“Are you sure that you don’t want to?”

Grima eyed Frederick’s hand as if it was poisonous. Frederick kept it raised, but still in the air between them.  
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Grima leaned forward. It felt like he was testing the air around them. He picked up his hand and tapped Frederick’s fingertips, pulling away again. They met eyes, and Frederick tried to look encouraging.  
Grima tried again. He slid his fingers down in the gaps between Frederick’s, and found his palm, moving upward still, until he could grip Frederick’s wrist.  
Grima shuddered a sigh, and his eyes fluttered closed. 

“You feel cold,” Frederick commented, and Grima’s jaw tightened, his lip quivering as if he were holding back tears.

“Can you do something for me?” Grima’s voice was hoarse, his eyes still closed.

“What is it?”

“Call me Robin. Just this once.”

Frederick couldn’t help but smile at that. “Robin, it is going to be okay. Robin, Frederick loved you right up until his last moments. And if he could do it all again, he would sooner choose to die than live without you.”

Grima clapped his free hand over his mouth as he sobbed, and Frederick caught his shoulder, pulling him into an embrace. He felt his shirt going damp with tears, and stroked Grima’s hair while he fell apart.

-

They had parted on an awkward note. Grima was obviously embarrassed about his breakdown, but he warned Frederick that he hadn’t changed his mind on what needed to happen.  
Frederick hadn’t either.

He made his way to Robin’s room, hoping to at least say goodnight.

Robin answered his knock almost immediately, and recognition turned to an affectionate smile as he caught Frederick’s hand.

“How did it go?” Frederick asked in a hushed tone.

“Come in,” Robin replied, pulling Frederick over the threshold and closing the door behind them.

“Better than expected, I assume.”

Robin pushed Frederick up against the wall before he responded. “Don’t worry about my father,” he muttered, unbuttoning Frederick’s collar to kiss his throat.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Frederick responded, suddenly having difficulty catching his breath.

“Stay with me tonight.”

“Absolutely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooooooo everyoneeeeee we are back baby
> 
> i'm pretty chuffed i managed to bang out another 12k in around a month given my life is a fuck right now
> 
> thank you all again for reading i am pretty excited to flesh out these last few chapters before the listen to me series is officially over!!! im already planning a couple of side projects, mostly fredrobin related. im thinking of doing some f!robin just cuz :) but if you guys want more m/m feel free to let me know idk honestly i think i might even take some requests just to get the creative juices flowing
> 
> did i mention you can find me on tumblr and twitter? my tumblr is (expectedly) @/frederickfe and my twitter (if you REALLY want to shatter your illusions of me) is @/sasukesbian
> 
> favourite parts of this chapter are probably chrom being rude to validar and ummm maybe writing aversa in general.  
> i really like writing both aversa and grima!robin i based them both a bit on andrew minyard from aftg. my plans for grima's characterisation changed sooooo much in the time ive been writing i feel like hes a little ball of playdough and im just punching him every fucking chapter  
> chrom being rude to validar was specifically very fun because i really wanted to hone in on his relationship with his parentage (including emmeryn in that definition) and how that affects the way he sees authority. although its quite different from me. i could never be so outspoken with someone older than me although sometimes they deserve it :''')
> 
> let me know if theres anything youre confused about please godbles. its just me and simon reading this over before it gets published and we know all of the secrets to the plot so it can be kind of hard to tell sometimes. 
> 
> i didnt really do any funny google searches for this chapter so ill leave you with the thought that my boss woke me up by texting me this morning and i was so tired that i sent him this ʕ•̀ω•́ʔ✧ emoji and he left me on read and i havent stopped thinking about it all day

**Author's Note:**

> welcome back everybody!!!!!! if you are strong enough to have made it this far (now ~112k) into my fic i want to say thank you soooo much from the bottom of my fucking heart like i honestly adore you and i'm thrilled that you're taking any kind of interest in what i made. every kudos and comment honestly overwhelms me like the thought that you could be doing anything with your life and here you are spending it with me. thank you thank you thank you
> 
> this chapter is fucking 12k words. it went a bit far over my usual limit of ~7k but that's first chapters for you. i hope it wasn't too difficult to get through with our lack of fredrob moments - i promise we are getting there!!!  
> i'm basically scrabbling to write in all the ends i've gotta tie up before the next 2 big plot points which is partially why this shit is so fucking looooong but i'm pretty excited
> 
> the hardest bit to write in this chapter was probably umm the scene where chrom finds out that marth is his kid. parents arent something i have a great deal of experience with and honestly i had no idea how chrom would react in the first place so everything in that part i greatly owe to my best friend simon. in fact most of my chapters would be a great deal jankier without them.
> 
> inspirations for this chapter include:  
> dragon quest 11 (surprise) specifically gallopolis  
> some houses i saw on pinterest once  
> jojo's bizarre adventure  
> simon talking to their russian parents
> 
> obligatory google searches for this chapter:  
> parts of a fireplace  
> canvas sizes  
> how long does it take to get to france by boat  
> how well do horses do in the desert  
> camel next to horse
> 
> i hope you all enjoyed the chapter and i will see you all as soon as i can. love you !!


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